The Promise
by Jezzi.tofadeawayagain
Summary: When Astoria Malfoy learns she is dying, she asks Hermione Granger to take care of her husband Draco. It's not until the following New Year's Eve that he starts to let her. A tale about the seasons of grief, friendship and love, and moving on after a devastating loss.
1. Chapter 1: Promises and Passings

The Promise

Chapter 1: Promises and Passings

 _December 26, 2007 – 11:43 a.m._

The solarium was warm despite the fresh snowfall on the ground. The Christmas tree twinkled in the far corner, providing a further sense of warmth and cheer, and the lights Astoria had insisted on hanging in low, slightly askew strings blazed under the dark snow clouds beyond the glass ceiling. The whole effect made Hermione feel as if she were in some kind of festive children's clubhouse rather than in an heiress' primary entertaining space.

She supposed that had been Astoria's intent. She wanted Scorpius to remember the holiday as a fun one, filled with magic of a different sort. Of family and hugs, giggles and fairy lights.

She watched Astoria lean forward out of her old-fashioned wheelchair to refill her cup of tea. It was a good day for Astoria. She was cheerful, had good amounts of energy, and was refusing the pain potions Hermione had brought along to the unexpected invitation for a Boxing Day luncheon.

Astoria's gaze was fixed on the spectacle outside of the solarium windows, where six-year-old Scorpius was struggling to decide if he'd rather ride his new toy broom, drive in the children's monster truck that Hermione had bought him for Christmas, or fling snowballs at his father.

Hermione chuckled as she watched Draco take charge by sitting, comically folded, in the monster truck. He started to chase Scorpius through the snow, and the little boy's shrill laughter could be heard clearly through the glass. She turned to Astoria. "There's something I never thought I'd see. Draco Malfoy driving a Muggle children's toy. Honestly."

Astoria snorted at Hermione's attempt at posh disdain. "Me either. But it suits him, I think."

"I think so, too."

The two women sat in silence again, watching as Scorpius hopped on his broom to throw snowballs at Draco from the air as if they were tiny, soft Bludgers.

Astoria tore her eyes away and fixed them on her friend, instead. "Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"I'm afraid I need to ask a rather large favor of you. A rather important favor." Her voice was just as casual as always, with that tone that said she assumed the answer would be yes.

Hermione loved that about her, but right now it made her feel hesitant. "Ask away," she prompted, though it sounded more like a question.

The other woman wrapped herself more tightly in her blanket, glanced out the window one more time, and then leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Suddenly all aristocratic airs were gone, replaced by a quiet determination Hermione was familiar with. It made Hermione want to run in the other direction, or to place her fingers in her ears and sing "God Save the Queen" at the top of her lungs.

"Take care of him for me."

The request wasn't entirely unexpected. She and Astoria had worked together for years at St. Mungo's before Hermione had joined the Aurors as a field medic, where she'd been sent to join Draco's team. Astoria liked to joke that her husband had gone and stolen her work wife. But it was more than just working together. She'd grown just as close to Astoria as she was with Ginny. Hermione had performed her first exam when she'd fallen pregnant with Scorpius. She'd babysat him far more often than his Aunt Daphne ever had, and loved him just the same as she loved Harry and Ron's children.

She and Draco had already talked it over at work multiple times at Astoria's urging. Scorp needed some stability. Hermione had come for Sunday lunch nearly every weekend since he'd been born. She always went to Wednesday playdates at the Potter's, often times minding all of the children so that their parents could have some time to themselves. Some nights, Draco would bring Scorp along to Hermione's if they had to work late.

"I thought Draco had talked to you about this," she sighed. "I'll be here for Scorp, Astoria. I'll do everything I can to make things as normal for him as possible. I promise."

Astoria bit her lip and gave her a half smile. "Oh, I'm not worried about Scorpius. I mean… yes, I am, but I know he'll be alright. He'll be very well loved, I have no doubt of it." She looked outside again, watching as Draco snatched Scorpius from the air and wrestled him into the snow. "I need you to take care of Draco for me."

Hermione waved her hand around in the air. "I'll make sure he's doing alright, too. I'll make sure he's eating, and I won't let him do anything stupid at work. You know that already." They'd joked about this not long ago, when joking was the only thing that could get Astoria to stay positive during her treatments. It wasn't funny anymore. Not now that it was reality instead of a future neither of them could believe would come true.

"I need you to take care of him for me. Not like a work wife, this time. Like… like an actual wife."

Hermione froze, her teacup hitting her saucer with a completely inappropriate amount of clatter. "Tori, you can't joke about things like this. It's not funny anymore, alright?"

"You're right, it's not funny. And I'm not joking. Just hear me out, Hermione. Okay?" Astoria reached forward across the tea table and grabbed Hermione's hands; despite her energy, her skin was still like ice. "He trusts you. More than anyone but me." Hermione started to protest, but Astoria shook her head. "No, I'm serious. You're the one he goes to, even before Blaise and Theo. You've saved him from Azkaban, you've saved him in the field, and you've done your best to save me. You're our best friend."

Tears started to form in her friend's eyes, and this more than anything convinced Hermione that she wasn't kidding around. Astoria never cried. Not when the Healers told her that they couldn't do anything further to stop the curse. Not when Draco had broken down at the news. Never. "He loves me with all he is. I know this is going to break him," Astoria admitted. "I can't stand the thought of him being alone. You know him, he's going to shut down. He's not going to let anyone else in."

Secretly, Hermione agreed with this assessment. Draco Malfoy was forever trying to atone, and he'd view Astoria's death as something he deserved. He wouldn't try to move forward. Not without prompting. "This is crazy, Tori."

"No. It's not. Everyone always says it – if it weren't for me, he'd be with you. You're both too smart for your own good. You read all the same books. You've got similar interests. When you're in the field you work like you're one person." She was fierce now, and it gave Hermione pause. Did people really think that? "I've got to leave them, Hermione. I don't have a choice. I'd stay forever if I could, but I can't. I need to make sure my family is looked after. You're already a part of it. I know you think I sound crazy, but I don't want my husband to be miserable. You're alone, and he'll be alone. It just makes sense." Everything grew quiet again, but for the sound of Draco and Scorpius yelling across the yard at one another. Then Astoria murmured, "And I'd rather him be with someone I approve of than someone his mother would pick out for him. Someone who will be a good mother to my son. Someone who won't try to erase me."

There it was, Hermione thought. That little kernel of insecurity was something she could understand. "Tori, he would never, ever allow anyone to erase you."

"I know, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't try."

"But he wouldn't let that happen."

"I'd still be more comfortable if I knew… if I thought it was you with him." Astoria wiped her eyes, refusing to let her tears spill over. "It's my dying wish, Hermione."

"That's not fair," Hermione whispered, her own eyes clouding over.

"I know. But I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it would make you happy, too."

Hermione buried her face in her hands, refusing to let herself start. She would not spend her remaining time with her friend in tears. "Does Draco get any say in this?"

"Not particularly, no." The two women couldn't help chuckling at Tori's smug tone. She rose out of her wheelchair and took a few slow steps around the table to sit next to Hermione on the couch.

"I can't promise you anything," Hermione insisted. "It's his life. I'm not going to plot and scheme to ease your mind. Not even with these circumstances. That's not me." She wrapped her arms around her friend, guilt flooding through her.

"All I ask is that you promise to be there for him," Astoria whispered, squeezing her tight. "If you fall in love with someone else tomorrow, then follow your heart. But if there's no one else, and if it happens naturally… well, then you know it was what I wanted to happen. I want both of you happy."

Hermione took a shuddering breath, pressing her face into the blanket around Astoria's shoulders as she hugged her. "I solemnly swear that I'll be there for him, Tori. I won't let him grieve alone I promise."

Astoria pulled back with a smile on her face. "Thank you."

"Don't ever pull the 'dying wish' card on me again," Hermione choked out, dabbing fiercely at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Don't worry, it's single-use only, that card."

"It isn't funny, Astoria."

Tori raised an eyebrow at her cockily as the door to the solarium swung open. "That was absolutely funny, darling, don't pretend otherwise." She then turned away and gave a smile as bright as the fairy lights above her as Scorpius skipped into the room, flinging his jacket off and leaving a trail of snow in his wake. Draco's light-hearted chuckle filled the space as he followed, much less messily, and sat in the well-worn leather armchair nearest Astoria's wheelchair.

Usually Hermione loved to hear his laugh, but the sound made her stomach feel heavy and full of ice.

Draco's shrewd gray eyes flicked first to his son, who was treating his mother like a playground ladder, and then to Hermione. "Everything alright, ladies?" he inquired. He'd already switched his gaze back to Astoria and was reaching to pull Scorpius off her.

Astoria waved him back. "All fine," she said in her cheeriest of tones. She managed to get her arms around the little boy and pin him to her lap, making him laugh as she peppered his blond head with kisses.

"Granger looks as if she's just encountered an acromantula," Draco noted. Hermione appreciated his blunt attitude most of the time, but not right now. Not about this.

"She's going to be just fine, Draco." Astoria gave Hermione that look. The one she usually used at Ministry parties when she needed saving from a particularly unpleasant conversion, or when a patient had become too handsy back in the triage ward at St. Mungo's. "Aren't you, Hermione?"

She resisted the urge to glare at Astoria, noting her friend's tight grip on Scorpius' little body, the way her free hand found Draco's and squeezed. The plaintive look in her eyes as she gripped the two most important people in her life.

"Yes, yes," she said softly, her eyes never leaving Tori's. "Just fine."

 _December 28, 2007 – 2:14 a.m._

 _Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap._

The wind wailed outside as Hermione scrubbed a hand down her face. A glance at her iHome's clockface told her it was early – much earlier than she usually woke up, these days. She thought it must be the storm, the rain against her window pane causing her to wake so suddenly. But then it came again, that rhythmic _tap, tap, tap_ against the glass, like a polite door knock. Too rhythmic to be rain.

Her stomach dropped when she saw Draco's owl fluttering in the gale just outside of her room.

She flung the window open, not caring as the wind tossed cold raindrops every which way. The bird rushed inside and flew to the empty perch in the corner, ruffling her feathers and looking disgruntled. She offered her foot to Hermione.

The letter had her name on it in familiar handwriting. She ripped the envelope open, her usually steady hands shaking.

 _Granger,_

 _Tori's gone. She began seizing just after eleven this evening. I called the Healers, but there wasn't anything they could do. She passed shortly before midnight._

 _Draco_

 _December 31, 2007 – 4:00 p.m._

She didn't stand with Draco during the service, even though he'd asked her to. It felt inappropriate, despite Tori's voice in her head saying "be there for him" over and over, and despite how shattered he looked.

He'd looked that way since she'd arrived shortly after four the morning Astoria died. He'd sat with her body for hours, just holding her hand. It had only gotten worse when Narcissa announced that Scorpius was awake. He'd insisted on telling him alone. The little boy's wails of "I didn't get to say goodbye" echoed through the halls. Hermione didn't think she'd ever forget that sound, and she couldn't imagine how Draco had managed to get through it.

She kept to the back of the crowd amidst their old coworkers from St. Mungo's. Joined Ginny and Harry in the procession when it was time to leave a flower on the casket. Clenched her hands at the sound of Scorpius' tears, and still tighter when Draco's voice broke as he tried to comfort his son. Bit her cheek hard enough to bleed when the casket was sealed and lowered into the ground.

She, Harry, Ginny and Blaise stood about 100 yards from the grave site near a copse of trees, staying a respectful distance away during the final proceedings. Blaise nudged her shoulders as they watched the Greengrass' release their handfuls of dirt.

"I had a letter from Tori before she died," he murmured, turning his bottle green gaze on her.

"Did she ask anything of you?" Hermione asked, her tone only slightly bitter. The Greengrass' and Narcissa had broken away, leaving Draco and Scorpius alone beside Astoria's grave.

He nodded, his hands moving toward his pockets instinctively. She recognized the searching motion from many evenings spent hiding on the smoking balcony at Ministry functions or playing croquet on the lawns of Malfoy Manor. Would have also loved the indulgence of a cigarette if they were anywhere else. "Asked me to keep an eye on Draco, and on you. And to meddle when the time was right, if you weren't keeping your promise."

She wished she could smile. "Scheming and plotting, until the last. That sounds like Astoria."

"Yes. She's passed that mantle to me."

They watched Draco raise his wand to perform that last horrible act expected at wizarding funerals. She'd watched Arthur Weasley placing the earth over Fred's body, watched Andromeda do the same for Tonks. She'd watched this happen at every funeral nine long years ago, and had been haunted by it each and every time. She could see that it was already haunting Draco just by the look on his face as he froze, his wand in the air and his eyes trained on Scorpius' face. "Go and help him, Blaise."

"That's not the way it's done," he replied, but his protestation was half-hearted at best, and his hand was already reaching into his coat to retrieve his wand.

"Go and help him. Now."

Harry caught Hermione's eye and nodded, following closely behind Blaise as they jogged back toward the grave. She was pleased to see that Astoria's sister, Daphne, and her husband Theodore Nott had broken away from the rest of the family and started to walk back to the grave as well. Pleased to see that Daphne was disregarding her father's protests just as surely as Astoria would have.

"Let's go and collect Scorp," Ginny whispered, tugging at Hermione's arm. "He's too little to have to remember this part, no matter what his grandparents think."

They approached the small group of close friends and family now gathering around the grave site. She thought that it was okay to comfort him now that there were only familiar eyes watching. As Ginny gathered Scorpius into her arms, Hermione stood next to Draco, watching his face as he stared down at the casket.

"I don't think I can do this," he admitted in a whisper. "Granger, I–"

She put her hand on his forearm, gave it a small squeeze. "We're all here to help you."

His eyes widened and he glanced quickly around, seeming to only just become aware of the group of people surrounding him. "But that's not how it's done."

"Since when did Tori ever care about how things are done?" Daphne stepped forward, purposefully blocking his view of their disapproving parents across the clearing. "When you're ready, we'll do it together. Take all the time you need."

Draco nodded, cleared his throat, and reached to take Scorpius from Ginny's arms as the others walked away a few paces to give him space.

"Scorp… it's time to say goodbye to Mummy now, sport." Hermione hated the way his voice cracked. Hated the way her heart broke into splinters as she listened to Scorpius telling his mother he loved her, and that he'd do like she said and never forget that she loved him, too. She kept her tears in, tried to keep a steady face for Draco as he picked the little boy up and turned toward her, his hands shaking.

"Can you take him home?" he pleaded.

She nodded, accepting Scorpius' weight as Draco passed him to her. She turned away immediately, because she didn't want Draco to see the tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. She didn't want to help move the earth to cover her friend's body, her friend who had loved the sun. Instead, she marched Scorpius straight past his grandparents and up the little hill to the cemetery gate, humming the boy's favorite lullaby to comfort him.

When they reached the gate, she felt him tug on her dress and slowed. "Hermione?"

"Mmhmm?" She set him down and knelt beside him, straightening his little tie.

"Can we come back here to visit Mummy?" he asked. "Or is this place just for people who are dead?"

He was curious like his mother and blunt like his father, and Hermione gave him a sad smile. "It's for people who are dead, yes, but it's also for living people. It's a place where we can come to remember the people who aren't here anymore. We can visit Mummy whenever you want to." They looked over their shoulders at the group of people below.

"Is Daddy going to come home soon?"

She nodded. "As soon as he's said goodbye to Mummy, I'm sure the next thing he'll do is come straight back to where you are," Hermione told him, brushing the tears from his little cheeks. She gripped his hand tightly. "Are you ready to Apparate?"

The little boy looked back at the grave, where his father was looking up, watching and waiting for them to vanish. "I love you, Mummy," he whispered. Then he glanced up at Hermione. "Do you think she can hear me?"

She nodded again, unable to smile this time. "Absolutely. I think she'll be listening whenever you want to talk to her. Anytime, anywhere."

He nodded once and pulled his eyes away from where his mother rested. "Okay. Let's go home."

 _December 31, 2007 – 7:20 p.m._

The Christmas tree still stood in the solarium, just as it had days ago when Astoria had summoned her for lunch. She stared at it as she held a now sleeping Scorpius. Hoped he remembered a happy time when they'd decorated that tree much more clearly than he would remember today's events.

The door from the main house shut behind her, and she turned to watch as Draco walked into the room, slumping down into his armchair near the tea table.

"Has everyone gone, then?" she asked, careful not to wake the sleeping boy in her arms.

"Most of them. Potter and Ginny offered to take Scorp home for the night. Said it would be good for him to have some playmates to distract him." He dragged a hand down over his face.

"You don't have to say yes if you're more comfortable having him at home."

He shook his head. "No. Ginny's right, it'll be better for him to have some time away from all this." He waved his hand at the door. "This place feels empty without her."

"She always did know how to fill a room," Hermione said softly, trying to lift his spirits.

She was rewarded with a smile, a brief break in his grief. "Yeah. That she did."

They sat silently for a time, comforted by the quiet space and Astoria's wildly strung fair lights overhead.

When Scorpius began to fidget, Hermione stood up. "I'll go get him into pajamas and take him to Ginny and Harry's." Draco nodded, his eyes closed. "Do you need anything before we go?"

"I'll be alright," he said softly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. She didn't believe that statement for one second. "Thanks for being there for him today, Granger. For us."

"Of course." She hesitated. "Do you want me to come back tonight? I can help clean up…" He was already shaking his head no.

"Go to Potter's. Blaise will stay, if I need help. You've already helped plenty today."

Astoria's voice was ringing in her head again. But now was not the right time to be there for him. Now was the time to give him privacy and the space to grieve.

 _December 31, 2007 – 11:52 p.m._

She tucked Scorpius in next to Albus and Rose, and was reminded strongly of a litter of puppies. The drawing room was full of sleeping children, their limbs reaching every which way.

She pulled the door shut behind her, leaving it cracked for the little ones who still feared the dark, and then returned to the back garden. Weasleys were everywhere, along with Andromeda and Fleur's parents. She was happy to see everyone so relaxed, and amused that Teddy and Victoire were still determined to make it to midnight and celebrate with the adults.

Even so, she didn't feel much like celebrating. Didn't like to think of Draco alone in the manor's carriage house, or about her friend alone and cold in the earth. Just last year, Astoria had insisted on doing shots at midnight. Just last year, she'd been whole and healthy…

Harry approached her with a glass of champagne, and she took it eagerly, watching as Ron put up a countdown clock with his wand across the yard.

She took a large sip of the sharp liquid and stared at the clock. 15 seconds.

"To Astoria?" Harry asked, raising his own glass in the air.

She nodded. "To Astoria." They waited until the clock hit zero, and as George's confetti blast boxes peppered the yard with shredded paper, the two friends toasted and drained their glasses.

 _Written for the Dramione Fanfiction Forum's "I Solemnly Swear" New Year's Fest. This began as a one-shot, but has evolved into a longer work. Updates expected once every two or so weeks. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 (penname: tofadeawayagain)._


	2. Chapter 2: Insults and Injuries

The Promise  
Chapter 2: Insults and Injuries

 _January 2, 2008 – 5:15 p.m._

The Floo was blocked. She wasn't shocked by that. She expected them to need some time, and doubted that Scorpius would want to play with the other kids at the moment, anyway. She certainly wasn't in the mood for it, either, so instead of going to visit with her friends and the kids, she went to bed at 5:30 p.m.

She finally fell asleep just after midnight.

 _January 6, 2008 – 11:37 a.m._

She poured the last of Scorp's favorite balsamic vinegar into the bowl, placed the plastic lid over the top, and gave the bowl a good shake. Hoped that the little boy's favorite, caprese salad, might cheer him up a little. She knew he looked forward to it every Sunday, and it had been a few weeks now since they'd gathered for their usual Sunday lunch. But when she threw the sparkling green powder into her fireplace, nothing happened. The flames stayed a cheerful orange. The Floo was blocked again.

 _January 7, 2008 – 9:05 a.m._

Hermione shut Harry's office door crisply behind her, turned to face him, and glared as he mopped a hand down his face and held the other up to try and stop what he knew was coming.

"France." Her voice quite clearly told him not to fuck with her. "Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"It's not my place to disclose where employees go on their time off." The excuse sounded weak, even to him, and he grimaced.

"Harry Potter, following the rules of the bureaucracy to the letter. I could laugh." She smacked Draco's letter down on the top of Harry's desk. "He's taken my godson off to France and you thought you'd just let me cry all over your kitchen table? Even though you knew perfectly well where they are and why I couldn't get through the Floo?"

Harry wasn't used to this type of needling from Hermione. He'd seen her do it to Ron, many a time, but he found he didn't much like being on the receiving end. "Are you sure this is about him taking your godson to France and not about him taking himself to France?" he snapped.

The air between them grew chilly. "Don't you go telling me what this is about," she whispered, motioning between them. "This is about you lying to my face yesterday afternoon. This is about you hiding behind your job instead of giving me a bit of time to get used to the idea of having 15 Aurors reporting to me. Acting like Cornelius Fudge because it's more comfortable for you that way." He mopped his face again and tried to speak, but Hermione cut him off again. "This is about you acting like a coward instead of like my best friend. That is what this is about." She didn't even care that her voice had continued to steadily rise all this time. Didn't care that she hadn't remembered to charm the door and that her yelling was probably echoing down the corridor and into the office proper.

He stood up slowly, as if he were approaching a rearing hippogriff, and walked around the desk toward her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, it was completely out of line." Even though he privately thought it must have been all too true, for her to react like that. "And you're right, I should've said something yesterday."

She just glared at the floor.

"Listen, it isn't permanent. He'll be back at the end of the month. If you'd rather I put Seamus in charge–"

"No, I bloody would not," she retorted, shifting her glare back onto him.

"Alright," he said, and she recognized the placating tone as the same one he used when Lily was throwing a tantrum. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath as she turned away again, this time facing the door.

Hermione listened as Harry continued to walk toward her, stopping just behind where she stood. Felt his hand touch her shoulder, but she was still too mad at him to be comforted, so she shrugged it off. He sighed. "He asked me not to tell you," he admitted. "He wants some time alone with Scorp so they can adjust. He knew he wouldn't get that time if they stayed here." He said it as gently as possible.

She tugged a hand through her curls, wondering why that hurt so much.

Harry moved in front of her again, but she didn't turn away this time. "I know you want to help them, but maybe it's good for them to have some time and space right now. Maybe it'll help them heal."

"We were supposed to keep things as normal as possible," she whispered. "That's what she wanted."

Harry placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up, giving her a sad half smile. "Yes, but things aren't normal. And I know he's your godson and you're worried about him, but he's Draco's son. If Draco thinks it's better to take some time away, all we can do is support that."

The words pained her, causing a contraction above her navel, a sudden loss of air as she exhaled in response.

"Come for dinner tonight," Harry offered. "I can help you finalize the rotations, and Ginny's making lasagna."

"Why? So I can find out there's something else you didn't bother to tell me tomorrow morning?" She gave him one more sharp glare as she opened the door and moved as quickly as possible out of his office.

 _January 7, 2008 - 6:32 p.m._

The Floo lit up, staining her living room in a momentary wash of bright emerald, and for a fleeting moment she thought it would be Draco arriving for their usual Monday night dinner and rotation review. But then Ginny walked into the room and she remembered that he'd run off to France.

Ginny placed a bottle of red wine in front of her, right on top of the surveillance timetable she was working on, and raised an eye at the mess of timetables and objective lists covering the table. "Can I help?" She pulled out a chair without being invited to do so – something Hermione had always loved about her – and made herself comfortable.

"I thought you were making lasagna," Hermione answered, her voice exhausted.

"I was, until my husband informed me that he has been a supreme idiot." Ginny pulled her wand out of the messy bun piled atop her head and gave it a flick. Two wine glasses floated out of a nearby cabinet. "Harry should have told you. So should Draco."

Hermione folder her arms atop the table and buried her head in them. "Draco technically doesn't have to tell me anything at all."

Ginny pursed her lips in response, waving her wand again to remove the cork from the bottle with a loud pop. "Maybe not." She poured a double-serving of wine into a glass and handed it to Hermione, followed by another for herself. "I know that he's just lost his wife and he is having a tough go of it. But still, it was rude of him to take off for France without telling you."

"Of course it was rude. He's Malfoy." Hermione gave a weak laugh, then blinked rapidly as she took a sip of her wine. She wouldn't cry over this, she wouldn't.

"It was also quite rude of Harry to put you in charge of the unit in Draco's absence." Ginny took a swig from her own glass. "I don't think he intended to be rude, of course. But how very male of him not to think about it a bit more thoroughly. At least he didn't deny it when I told him he'd behaved on par with my dear brother's sense of propriety."

Hermione snorted into her own wine glass. "Oh, I'll bet he didn't like that." She knew that Harry took great pride in having more sensitivity than Ron on just about any subject.

"Not a bit," Ginny agreed, placing her arm casually over the back of her chair. She turned concerned chocolate eyes onto Hermione. "But I didn't much like that everyone seems to be ignoring the fact that you've just lost a very dear friend, so I don't really care what he likes."

Hermione sucked in a breath and pressed her fingers into her eyes to stop the tears from spilling over. She only succeeded in getting her hands wet.

"I've also sent an owl to Malfoy to scold him for being a prick. He knows good and well that you cope by taking care of other people, that you'd need the routine to get through this. It wasn't right of him to just run off like that, grieving or not."

"He's got the right to think of himself and his son first, Ginny," she choked out, unable to keep control over the hurt which was blossoming in her chest now that it had been acknowledged.

"He does, but you're his partner. Over the last five years, you've saved each other in the field more times than I can count, and I'd argue that you know each other just as well as you know Harry and Ron. He should've told you, at the very least, instead of shutting you out."

Hermione remembered Tori's words that last day. You know him, he's going to shut down. He's not going to let anyone else in. She stared at the kitchen floor, noted that she'd missed a spot while mopping. "If he doesn't want me around, I'm not going to force him. He's got no idea that she asked-"

Ginny gripped her hand on top of the table and interrupted here. "He knows what she asked of you, Hermione."

Hermione looked up sharply, nearly knocking over her wine glass as she pulled her hand from Ginny's. "What do you mean, he knows?"

"He knows she asked you to look after him and Scorp. He told me and Harry after the funeral, before we all left the cemetery."

Hermione ran her hands through her hair again, ignoring the way it made her curls begin to frizz. "Does he know that she practically asked me to be the next Mrs. Malfoy?" Anger flared in the bottom of her stomach, and she hated it. Hated being angry at a dead woman.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She asked that bluntly, did she?"

Hermione just nodded. "Said it was her dying wish. And I told her no. I'd be there for him, but I wouldn't try and steer things in any direction. It's his life, after all, and his choice how he wants to live it." She leaned back, placed her hand against her cheek, and absently began to bite at her pinky nail.

Ginny pulled her hand away from her mouth absently. Mother's instincts, Hermione thought. Lily was always putting things in her mouth, these days… "I don't know if he knows about that part," Ginny admitted. "He's far from daft and she's never been subtle, though, so he probably suspects it in any case."

"Why would he suspect it?"

"Surely you realize everyone's been joking about the two of you for years? Even Malfoy's admitted that if he'd never met Tori, you two would've been a good fit."

She wanted to deny it, but she did remember this little joke of Malfoy's being laughed about at a Christmas party a few years back. It had been intended as a combination of joke and compliment. He was so obviously smitten with his wife that no one present had taken the comment for anything other than a poke at fun. She remembered quipping back about there being no chance of it ever working out between them as he still resembled an arrogant albino peacock. Remembered laughing with the others and then moving on to the next topic of conversation, courtesy of Blaise (why in Merlin's name Ernie Macmillan had thought it was a good idea to wear a powder blue tuxedo).

"Yes, well, it's all just joking. There's nothing to it. We're friends and work partners, that's it. He'll need support, and I'll keep my promise to be there for him. But that's it."

"You're like a crystal ball, Hermione," Ginny deadpanned. "You try to blur the edges but I can still see right through you."

Hermione scoffed and took a deeper swig of wine. "He's my friend's husband."

Ginny grabbed the bottle and refilled Hermione's wine glass. "He was your friend's husband. Now he's a widower." Her voice was kind, and Hermione's eyes filled again in reaction.

"He's still her husband, Ginny. In his own head and in mine." She felt that anger at Astoria churning away in her stomach again and tried to quell it. "If he wants something more later, that'll be up to him," she said quickly, spitting the words out as fast as possible so that she didn't have to keep them inside any longer. "I promised her I'd let it happen if it happened naturally."

Ginny gave her a knowing, sad smile. "Just because Astoria wanted it doesn't mean you need to wait around for him. It's your life, too. And it was rather unfair of her to ask so much of you."

"The whole thing is rather unfair, Gin." Hermione liked knowing the measure of everything, liked knowing where she stood in the scheme of things. She wasn't certain of anything, now. She drained the freshly refilled glass of wine, clutching at her friend's hand as she finally allowed herself to start to mourn.

 _January 18, 2008 – 12:51 a.m._

She stared at the ceiling, her blankets a ragged mess around her body, tangled from her unconscious thrashing. It had been an old nightmare, one she hadn't had for some time. Bellatrix was slashing at her with her wand, each cut through the air another jolt of pain through her body. Just behind her, almost out of sight, was Draco. He stood near the hearth, his eyes wide and hands clenched as he stood and watched and did nothing.

She wondered if that's why it haunted her still.

 _January 18, 2008 - 7:42 a.m._

Hermione pulled herself out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. She flipped the switch on the kettle, rummaged in the refrigerator for a yogurt, and then sat in a chair to review the day's tentative schedule as she ate. It was only after she'd cleaned up and grabbed her messenger bag that she realized there was a letter in the basket near the window she left open for post owls.

Her name was written on the envelope in the disjointed scrawl of a child. She carefully tore it open and found two pieces of parchment inside. One was a colorful drawing of what looked like two blond haired stick figures with their right hands raised in greeting, standing in front of a bright yellow sun. The words "I miss you" were written in the same shaky hand at the bottom of the page. She smiled at it widely and held it to her chest as she looked at the other sheet of paper.

 _Granger,_

 _I hope the team hasn't been giving you too much trouble. Scorpius misses you. He asked me to owl his masterpiece to you. I hope you enjoy it._

 _I've been informed that I'm behaving like a proper arse. I suppose that's true enough. Not shocked, though, are you?_

 _We'll be back on 25 January. I need a few more days to spend time with Scorp._

 _I'll try not to be an arse again once we get back. No guarantees, though._

 _-DM_

It was the closest to an apology that she'd ever get from him.

 _January 21, 2008 – 7:16 a.m._

She stood next to the grave and was glad for the snow. She didn't want to have to look at the still unsettled earth beneath the crisp, uniform expanse. The snow had a blue tinge in the predawn light, and it reminded her of years ago in the Hall of Prophecy, of watching endless globes fall from great heights, then shatter into glittering dust.

She sank down into it, a thick tartan blanket wrapped around her body. Astoria's headstone had been put in place at some time during the last weeks. The edges on the epitaph Draco had chosen were softened by the clinging snowflakes. It was merely one word: beloved.

Hermione reached into her pocket and removed the two little bottles she'd purchased the night before at the Tesco near her parents' house. Two single servings of gin, the cheapest she could find. Just as Tori had always liked it.

"I've got to go in to work, so I can only do the one," Hermione said out loud, feeling slightly foolish. "No matter that you'd have wanted me to do more. You're not here to be a bad influence on me, so you'll have to deal with my prudish ways."

She cracked the seal on the little bottle and chugged the contents down in one. It was just as foul as always, burning a path down her throat and into her core. She'd always preferred the warming sensation of fire whiskey to the icy burn of gin.

"I'll never understand why you like this stuff," she whispered, opening the other bottle and giving it a sniff. She then turned the bottle over and emptied it into the snow over Astoria's grave. "Cheers."

The chatter of birds began to reach her ears as the creatures woke, ready to greet the sun. Hermione watched as the sky turned pink. She sat a while longer, waited until the sun had cleared the treetops and turned the surface of the snow a glaring, unblemished white. Then she leaned forward and placed the empty bottles at the base of the headstone.

"Happy birthday, Tori."

 _January 21, 2008 - 3:07 p.m._

Seamus tossed a pile of photographs on top of her desk and sat on the edge of it without invitation. "They'll be moving them tonight." He looked smug. Hermione was getting tired of his nearly incessant power plays. If it weren't for her innate drive to be top of everything, she'd let him take over the unit until Draco returned.

"Did you get confirmation this time? Or are you expecting me to mobilize the team with no hard proof? Again?" She'd intended it as a sharp comment, but instead it came across as only weary.

Seamus turned a fierce shade of red. "I've got proof." He placed a corked vial full of silvery mist atop the photos. Hermione reached for it and picked up the photo on top of the pile, as well. The sight of a bloodied silver Thunderbird cramped into a cage with no room to even flex its wings, let alone stand up, made her heart feel sore. "Rolf left that memory in the cache this morning. He's going to maintain cover in case we miss our chance at catching these bastards."

She poured the memory into the Pensieve she kept in the drawer on the right side of her desk and lifted the shallow bowl onto the desktop. "I'm going to watch this now, but… do you know where they're heading?"

"No. If we don't catch them here, we'll lose the trail until Rolf can get word to us." Seamus fiddled with a pencil she'd left on the desk, analyzing the lead tip with interest.

Hermione brought her face to the mist, fell into the middle of a rock-strewn landscape, and watched as Rolf Scamander expertly led the smugglers into a discussion of what preparations would be necessary to send three huge Thunderbirds to their final destination. As the smugglers began to discuss the timeframe they were operating on, she nodded to herself. He'd really outdone himself this time – between the beard and the heavy Dublin accent, she could barely recognize him. She pulled herself out of the memory when one of the birds began to shriek in agony. How was he able to do this?

Seamus had moved on to clicking a pen when she returned to the present, and she immediately snatched it away from him. "None of that."

He just smirked at her. "What, then?"

"Call everyone in. You can take point. I'll coordinate with the Beast Division and I'll meet you in the field at sundown." Seamus made to leave the room, but she stopped him. "Make sure you arrest Scamander. We'll be needing him to stay undercover."

He nodded, all of his antagonism falling away for the first time since Draco had left. "Aye. This feels bigger than just three Thunderbirds."

 _January 21, 2008 - 5:14 p.m._

Hermione and the rehabilitation team from the Beast Division arrived in the Burren as the sun slipped under the horizon. She was immediately grateful for the fleece-lined gloves covering her hands. Western Ireland, with its ever present gusts of wind, felt even colder than Scotland.

She broke away from the team, accompanied only by the avian specialist, Christie Caldwell. They'd spoken briefly about the healing techniques Christie may need to use on any of the birds' injuries, and Hermione was relieved that most were the same as she'd use on a human body. If it weren't such a solemn occasion, she'd find it funny that they were similarly equipped, both carrying medical bags in addition to two backup wands and wearing key necklaces around their necks. Hermione's silver necklaces would go straight to St. Mungo's when activated. Christie wore both silver and gold varieties, with the gold keyed in to a portion of the Ministry within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures referred casually to as The Zoo.

Seamus was waiting just ahead. They were about two miles from the target area. He sent a Patronus flying into the dusk. "You're just in time. There's been some movement already. Looks like they'll be trying to use Portkeys. I've got a team triangulated already." He gestured in the direction in which the Patronus had vanished. "I've just told them to activate the Portkey blocker. Once they try to Port out, we'll go in fast. At the very least, we should be able to save the birds." He nodded to Christie.

Hermione stayed quiet as they approached the stakeout. Seamus had done an excellent job setting this up – this area of Ireland was his backyard, and he'd used the landscape to their advantage. It more than made up for the previous week's blunder.

They left the magizoologist behind a massive boulder just outside the Portkey blocker's boundaries. As soon as they'd taken their place behind a boulder of their own a short distance away, she gave Seamus a nod of approval. "Where do you want me?"

"Not going to take the reins back, then?" he scoffed, disbelieving.

"Everything looks good. You're perfectly capable of running missions, Seamus." She rummaged through her pack and retrieved the little orange bag she'd been looking for. His eyes widened as she handed him one of the tiny medical kits she usually gave to Draco – the one with the supplies he'd need to keep someone going long enough to get them to St. Mungo's in the event that she got hit. "Now then, where do you want me?" she asked again, hoping that this gesture would should him that she was serious about following his orders during this operation.

He thought for a moment as he clipped the bag into place at his belt, then indicated that she should follow him. "Come with me and Cadwallader. We're to get the smugglers handling the male."

They joined Rhys Cadwallader, Seamus' field partner, where he was hidden at the end of a relatively clear spot in the field of boulders. He was a few years younger, perpetually ruddy-cheeked, and grinning. "Alright, Hermione?" he asked, winking at her as she settled in beside him.

"So far, so good. How's it looking?"

"Rolf's started inspecting the little female's cage. Once he makes it around to us, they could go any time."

"You've set up the anti-Apparition wards?" Seamus asked, and from the roll of Rhys' eyes, Hermione could tell that it wasn't the first time Seamus had checked.

"Set and ready to go. We'll activate them on Scamander's signal."

It was a long wait. Rolf was playing his part thoroughly, and Hermione suspected that he was stalling as he took extra time to soothe the birds. It would be worth it, if he was able to prevent them from causing havoc as soon as spells started flying. They were lucky that the smugglers had chosen Western Ireland, really. The weather here was usually foul, if not volatile in the winter months. None of the Muggles would notice anything amiss if the three birds created a storm.

Finally, she saw Rolf scratch his left calf with the toe of his right boot. Rhys reacted quickly, waving his wand and muttering under his breath. Hermione tried to feel her way into nothingness and couldn't. The anti-Apparition wares were working.

"Here we go," Seamus whispered, watching as the leaders of the smuggler's ring, a short Russian man by the name of Alexi Petrov, tossed Portkeys to each of the groups surrounding the cages They heard him begin to count down from ten, and Hermione kept her wand focused on the smuggler nearest her position.

Nothing happened as Alexi's countdown hit one. In the moment of confused silence that followed, the Aurors struck. The attack was well-coordinated. Fifteen of the twenty-one smugglers, including Scamander, were stupefied almost immediately. The others were nearly down when spells started coming from the wrong direction.

"Behind you!" Rhys yelled. He and Seamus immediately turned, back to back, and began to fire stunning spells and Impediment Jinxes into the shadows. It was a well-practiced movement, second nature for any Auror since Harry had taken over the department. In an attack, you should always have your partner's back.

And her partner was in France, she thought bitterly, trying to position herself in front of a rock to provide herself with some cover. She successfully took down two smugglers who had been hiding nearby before she was hit from the side with a curse that threw her backwards.

She felt her right shoulder shatter upon impact, and felt her skin flay open from within as shards of broken bone went in the only direction they could. The air against her exposed bones was agony. It felt like a concentrated form of the Cruciatus, and she only distantly noticed Seamus and Rhys standing over her, covering her position, as she struggled to hang on to consciousness.

It was raining fiercely now, and a freezing wind was whipping her hair out of its bun. The screeches of the frightened Thunderbirds filled her ears. She threw up from the pain, curled into a ball against the boulder she'd been thrown into, and waited. The Aurors didn't take long to gain the upper hand.

Soon, the only flashes of lights were the bolts of lightning emanating from the storm beginning to rage overhead. She heard someone yell the all clear, and then heard two distinct calls for a medic.

She got to her feet with some difficulty, and immediately Seamus was there at her side, reaching for her shoulders to stop her and then recoiling from the right side before making contact.

"I've got to get to them," she murmured, groaning at the weight of her pack on her shoulder.

"No, you bloody don't. Sit down." He held onto her other arm as she swayed in the wind, turning over his shoulder to yell at Rhys. "Get Caldwell over here!"

"I'll get her straight to the birds!" Rhys responded as he ambled over.

"No, I don't care about the bloody birds right now! Granger's down."

Rhys had been too young to stay behind during the battle at Hogwarts. He'd been evacuated from the Hog's Head and hadn't seen what she and Seamus had. She thought that must be why he immediately turned pasty white at the sight of her shoulder.

Seamus, though, was unexpectedly steady as he lowered her back to the ground. "Just relax then love, I'm going to get this pack off of you. Keep still a moment." With a quick Severing Charm, the shoulder straps of her medical bag fell away from her body. He caught the bag and pulled it into his lap, looking back up at Rhys. "Caldwell can treat any wounded. Check that the smugglers have all been properly stupefied, and then wake Scamander to calm the birds. We don't need a hurricane starting because of them. And drop the wards."

Rhys ran into the darkness to follow Seamus' orders.

Seamus immediately began to search through her bag. "Hermione, what do I need to get out of here? I'm not Porting you out like this."

She turned her head to look at her mangled shoulder, and was glad Seamus had made her sit. "The little green vials in the front pouch. Just one should do it."

He did as she asked and handed one to her. She pulled the cap off with her teeth, then jabbed the needle into her right arm just below the wound. Relief was nearly instantaneous, and she'd never been more grateful that Harry and Kingsley had signed off on her procedure changes to include Muggle morphine in the field medic kits. She relaxed back against the boulder, listening as the rain pelted the ground.

Seamus was looking at her expectantly, glancing back and forth between her face and her shoulder. "What next? Nothing's happening."

She knew he was waiting for the bones to recede, for the skin to start knitting back together, but she shook her head. "Nothing is supposed to happen. I'll have to go to St. Mungo's for this one. Go on and check the team. I'll wait here."

"I'm not leaving you here like this!"

Hermione closed her eyes and let the haze of morphine take her over. "It's an order, Finnegan. Check the team, and when you're sure everyone else is alright and everything's gone as planned, then you can Apparate me to hospital." And with that, she drifted off into a drugged slumber.

 _January 22, 2008 – 3:49 a.m._

She woke slowly, like a baby bird emerging from an egg. It took effort to remember how to open her eyes, and then more effort to focus them. The light in the room was minimal, but it still stung and she groaned. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized the effects of waking from a Senseless Potion.

When she could finally focus her eyes and move her limbs again, she first became aware that her entire right side remained immobilized. Then she noted the splintering sensation that meant Skelegrow was at work.

Finally, she noticed that a blond haired, baggy-eyed someone was sitting in the armchair beside the bed. Shock flooded through her. He wasn't due back until Friday.

"What are you… they've had me out for four days?"

Draco leaned forward and planted his elbows on the bed. "No, no, just about six hours. Maybe a bit longer."

"But what are you doing here?" Her brain felt muddled, and the prickle of the Skelegrow was growing stronger by the second.

"Finnegan was refusing to leave, but he had some criminals to interrogate. You know how I left my partner without someone to watch her back?" She just blinked at him, bewildered, and he smirked back at her. "Potter thought sitting here would be a fitting punishment, so he came and dragged me back."

"You didn't need to come back early. I'll be fine. I am fine."

"You've just begun a full joint reconstruction, had a compound fracture in your clavicle, and are recovering from a concussion." His joking tone was gone, replaced by glacial contempt. "You're not fine."

She groaned as he suddenly stood and began to pace the room. The light from the hall pierced her eyes and made her head spin. "Did we get them all in custody, at least?"

"Scamander says there are at least two more cells, one out of Peru and another out of Hawai'i, of all places." He mopped his face with a hand. "This lot was heading for Kazakhstan."

It made sense – the desert countries of the Middle East would probably pay a heavy sum on the black market for birds that could alter their weather patterns (and the state of their economies). She watched Draco pacing around the room for a moment, then gave him a half grin. "Is MACUSA taking over on the Hawai'i lead? I can think of worse places to go on business…"

"Let's talk about this when your brain isn't bleeding, shall we?" He was scowling, but his voice was gentle.

"Draco, really, I'm–"

"Don't say you're fine, Granger," he repeated. "I should have been there."

She placed her left forearm over her eyes in an effort to block out the bright lights from the hall. "Yes, well, you can't be there all the time. Do me a favor and don't get all broody about it. And shut the bloody door, will you? I'm being blinded."

He snapped the door shut and waved his wand at the already minimal overhead lights to dim them further. As she sighed with relief, he slid back into his chair.

She opened her eyes to find that his smirk had returned. "What?"

"It's just rare to see you being snarky, that's all."

"Well, you're snarky enough for the whole department," she mumbled, earning a small chuckle from him. "How long am I to be stuck in bed?"

"At least two days here, and then another week at home."

She cursed under her breath before grimacing at the increasingly sharp sensations in her shoulder.

"Close your eyes, Granger. Try and sleep a bit." He reached over and tugged the blanket up to her chin on her immobilized side.

She took a deep breath and nodded, settling back against the pillows. It wasn't the first time he'd sat at her bedside due to a work injury, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Even so, she thought he'd probably had enough of sickbeds to last a lifetime.

"You don't have to stay. I know it's probably hard to be here. I'm alright on my own, really."

"And I'm fine right where I am," he retorted. "Now close your mouth and your eyes, Granger."

So she did.

Note: A huge thank you to EvanaK for the alpha/beta on this chapter! Thanks to all of the readers for the kudos/comments. I've only recently started writing for this fandom, and I was overwhelmed by the number of views in addition to all of the feedback. I hope you enjoyed the latest installment!


	3. Chapter 3: Recovery 1

Chapter 3: Recovery 1

 _January 25, 2008 – 11:18 a.m._

She'd barely settled on her sofa when the Floo turned bright green and Scorpius and Ginny stepped out of the hearth. The little boy slithered out of Ginny's grip, running toward the sofa. He only barely managed to skid to a stop as Draco flung his arms out to block Hermione's right shoulder.

Hermione couldn't help chuckling as she watched Scorpius' eyes flicker back and forth from his father's pointed scowl to her face. She brushed Draco's hands away and leaned forward to wrap her left arm around the boy and lift him into her lap.

"I missed you! Did you grow about five inches? I think you must have…"

Scorpius snuggled his face into her neck and gave a great sniff.

"He's been worried about you, 'Mione," Ginny explained, reaching out and brushing her fingers comfortingly through the little boy's hair.

He sniffed again as he clung to her. "Daddy went to the hospital with you and they wouldn't let me go see you, and I thought you were going to go away like Mummy."

Draco exhaled sharply behind her. She felt back of the couch shift as he pulled his hands away, and heard his rapid footsteps as he retreated swiftly into the kitchen. Ginny hurried off after him, and Hermione hugged Scorpius as tight as she could. "I'm not going away like Mummy, Scorp. I'm going to be just fine in a few days."

"Promise?"

She nodded. "It's just some broken bones, love. I'm not sick, and I'm not so badly hurt that I can't be mended."

"This time." Scorpius sat up, wiping at his eyes. It was something they'd started saying back when Astoria first got sick – after they'd talked to Scorpius about living and dying, and he became aware that anyone could die at any time. Every time that Astoria came home from the hospital she'd had to assure Scorpius that she wasn't leaving him yet, that she was okay this time.

For some reason, it comforted him, so Hermione played along. "Yes, little love. I'm okay this time."

She could tell he'd been trying very hard to be a big boy and not cry. He was swiftly cultivating that Malfoy reserve that she disliked so much. The same reserve she thought Draco must be struggling to regain in the kitchen right about now.

"I can't move my arm much for the next few days, and you know how much Crookshanks likes to cuddle. I might need help giving him enough love until I'm better. And maybe some help feeding him. What do you think?"

Scorpius nodded halfheartedly. She frowned. Usually mention of the cat cheered him up quickly enough. But there was one other offer that was sure to work…

"Do you want to see my bone pictures?"

Scorpius immediately perked up. "Did you bring them with you?"

"Of course I did, silly. I knew you'd want to see them. Go grab the big envelope from my bag and I'll show them to you."

He did so, then scrambled back into her lap and pulled the scans from the envelope. "So what happened?"

"My shoulder got shattered, see?" She showed him the first scan. "See all the little pieces of bone?"

His jaw dropped. "Cool!"

She laughed at his reaction. "Yeah, it is pretty cool. But how they fixed it is even cooler. Look at this one. See, first they had to remove all the bones that were broken," she stated, indicating her clavicle, humerus, and scapula. "I had no bones at all for a little bit. It was all just squishy skin and muscle."

"No way."

"Way."

That's how Ginny and Draco found them when they reentered the living room, with Scorpius thoroughly distracted from his worry, excitedly exclaiming "woah!" or "wicked!" each time Hermione showed him a new bone scan.

 _January 26, 2008 – 9:45 a.m._

A knock sounded on the front door of her flat, and as Hermione groggily opened her eyes from her place on the couch, she saw Ginny running through the sitting room toward the entry hall to answer it.

Thank Merlin for good friends, she thought, collapsing back against the pillows before groaning and flicking the blankets away with her good arm. The Bone Strengthening Solution she'd been taking was draining her strength, and she wanted to do nothing but sleep.

She had barely moved into a sitting position when she heard Ginny muttering under her breath from the hall. As she looked over her shoulder, she saw Ginny emerge with a gigantic bouquet of yellow roses mixed with, of all things, fire lilies. The roses were wilting from the heat of the of the other flowers, and she quirked an eyebrow at Ginny.

"Who on Earth sent those?"

Ginny glared at the bouquet as she set them in the middle of the coffee table. "Seamus Finnegan, the loon."

She blinked at the flowers, raising an eyebrow as one of the fire lilies let out a flame so hot that it turned the adjacent rose into carbon. "Why would he send fire lilies?" she whispered, aghast.

Ginny pulled books and spare bits of paper from the coffee table to ensure that nothing would catch flame, scowling all the while. "He's always had a flare for the dramatic. And a flame for you."

Hermione snorted. "That is absolutely not true."

"Harry and I have endured drunken nights at the pub with that idiot, listening to him talking about how great you are with a wand." She batted her eyes mockingly at Hermione and fell into an armchair. "How quick you are to treats his wounds." She places a hand on her head and pretended to swoon. "How daring, how brave, how positively fiery–"

"Oh, sod off," Hermione exclaimed, tossing her pillow at her friend. "You know, I'm starting to be offended at the amount of gossip you've got about me but haven't bothered to share with me."

"So you're saying that you wanted to know about Seamus' little crush?"

Hermione hesitated. The flowers had begun to sizzle.

"Thought not," Ginny said, smug. She reached into the pocket of her worn Holyhead Harpies hoodie and withdrew an envelope. She brandished it and with a dramatic whisper announced, "There was a card."

"Oh, hell." Hermione wished she could wipe the smirk off Ginny's face. "Give it here."

"No, no, you're injured. I simply _must_ help you read this."

"Ginevra!" Oh, how she wished she hadn't thrown her pillow…

Ginny cleared her throat and ripped the envelope open. Hermione groaned as Ginny flashed the front of the card at her. It was rather plain, depicting a bouquet of flowers that looked similar to a funeral arrangement on the cover. Ginny then gave the contents a quick scan. Her gin became so devilish that Hermione groaned again.

"Give it here, Ginny–"

"–'Dear Hermione,'" Ginny began, pitching her voice higher than normal and adopting an Irish accent that was so exaggerated that Hermione began to laugh, "'I'm ever so sorry that you were hurt on the mission. I came back to check on ye'–" Ginny paused and momentary returned to her normal pattern of speech "–look, he actually wrote ye, y-e. Bless him." She cleared her throat and went right back into her Seamus imitation. "'I came back to check on ye a few times when you were still out cold, and I saw what they were doin' to that shoulder. Made me quite faint, if I'm bein' honest.'"

Hermione was giggling helplessly as Ginny continued, her face turning bright pink with suppressed mirth. "'Anyway, I hope you're feelin' better and that you're enjoyin' the time off.'"

Hermione hid her face in her hands and shook her head. "It's like he doesn't know me at all."

Ginny appeared to be having the time of her life. "'I want to apologize for actin' like such a cad when you were put in charge of the team the last few weeks. That's no way for ye to be treated, and I hope you'll forgive me for it, and for gettin' hurt on my watch.'" She glanced up at Hermione and cleared her throat. "'I hope you'll let me try and make it up to ye. Maybe we can get dinner together once you're feelin' better?'" And with that, Ginny howled with laughter.

Hermione stared, dumbfounded, at the fire lilies. "He didn't."

"He did. And don't say you can't believe it, because I can."

Hermione experimentally rolled her stiff shoulder. "This is ruddy outrageous." She stood up from the couch and started to pace, whining as her shoulder throbbed with every step. "I mean, really, who asks someone to dinner with a get well card?"

"Seamus Finnegan, apparently." Ginny's amusement seemed to grow with each passing moment. "What are you doing to tell him?"

"I can't very well say no to him! He'll think I'm mad about getting hurt. He's just like Ron, you know? He'll completely miss the point."

Ginny sniggered at that, but then frowned. "You're right… maybe just play ignorant and act like it's a friends dinner. Or a colleagues dinner! I mean, honestly, the way he asked, he couldn't blame anyone for thinking that."

"And if he shows up with more flaming flowers? What then?" Both women just stared at the bouquet; one of the roses was burning and beginning to smoke profusely.

"Maybe we should get those in water," Ginny mumbled.

"Cheers." Hermione stood up and grabbed the vase with her good arm, holding it at arm's length as she entered the kitchen. She turned on the tap and upended the entire vase into the basin, then pinched her nose as she watched a cloud of steam rising from the extinguished mess.

Suddenly, she was glad she had a whole week off.

 _January 27, 2008 – 7:22 p.m._

After so many weeks without regular visitors to her flat, she was starting to get annoyed by the regular flare of green light that filled the sitting room each time someone decided to come and check on her. She knew they were concerned, but she was ready to have a night to herself. Crookshanks scrambled off the hearth and ran down the hall to her bedroom, and she groaned as she pushed herself up from a reclining position. Her shoulder was stiff and sore.

Draco raised a hand in greeting, then crossed the room to enter the kitchen. His baggy-eyed appearance hadn't improved much since she'd first seen him sitting by her hospital bed. She followed him and stood in the doorway. He set a stack of files and his messenger bag down on the kitchen table and moved the centerpiece from the table to the counter.

She felt the string of annoyance buzzing in her chest. Did he think he was welcome to barge in here after a month and start clearing her table? To act like this was something normal again, when he'd gone and made it abnormal with his absence?

 _Be the bigger person_ , she told herself. She hated that she still said those words to herself after 17 long years of saying them every time this particular man made her feel unimportant. She had to reminder herself that this time was different. _Nothing is normal to him, right now. Be the bigger person._

Swallowing the bitter taste that had filled her mouth at his sudden appearance, Hermione decided that she wouldn't make him leave. She leaned against the kitchen doorway and crossed her arms over her chest. "Does this mean I'm allowed to come back to work, then?"

"No, Potter won't budge on your recovery leave. But I knew you've been bored, so I thought we could do the schedules like usual."

She scoffed. He ignored it.

"Where's Scorp?"

"Mother's taken him for ice cream in Diagon Alley. I thought we could get takeaway curry and maybe watch that Yank alien show when we're done." He busied himself with spreading paperwork over the table. He then fumbled in his messenger bag and withdrew a full bottle of Ogden's. "We can drink some of this, too, if you're up for it."

She was up for it, but… "Is your Mum going to be alright getting Scorp to bed?" she asked, summoning two short glasses from the cabinet above her wine rack. Narcissa loved her grandson, but she'd never been particularly helpful as a grandmother in the past. There was a reason Hermione had watched him so much as he grew, when Draco and Astoria had duties to attend to or wanted a night out together – Narcissa had always had a governess to help her with Draco, and thus had very little idea of how to handle a squalling infant on her own.

"Yes, she said she's prepared to handle him tonight. Even full of ice cream sundae. I think they'll be alright. Now that he can tell her what he needs, she's much less frightened of being left alone with him." He rolled his eyes, then stood up and opened her freezer door to retrieve a tray of ice cubes. She slid the glasses toward him and watched him pour two fingers of Ogden's into each. He set hers on top of a stack of files, then slid both items toward her across the table.

She picked up her glass and held it up in a toast. "To competent grandmothers."

He barked out a laugh, then held his glass up as well. "Quite." They each took a long sip, and then Draco spun his chair around and sat on it, leaning forward on only two legs just as he knew she hated. "Alright, then, here's what's happened since you've been out."

"Draco, sit like a normal human being."

He ignored her. "Rolfe Scamander has requested backup in the field. He says we caught one of their magizoologists and some of their most experienced operatives the other night. We're trying to get Christy Caldwell from Magical Creatures to go undercover on a temporary transfer. I guess she did a great job doctoring you up, and when she was done with you, she got the Thunderbirds under control and patched up without any issues. Scamander says a lot of the animals are malnourished and he's worried some of them might die if they don't have proper care. He's only one bloke, so the more experienced people we have in there, the better."

Hermione flipped her file open and stared down at it, wrinkling her nose as she saw Seamus' signature on the report which rested on top of the stack. "Do you want me to write to Luna? She's been working in Peru for a few years. She might have some information on the smuggling activities over there."

"Is she still just as loopy as she was in school?"

"Well, since you're still just as much of a prat–"

"–alright, alright. Yes. Contact Lovegood." Draco expertly dodged the pen Hermione threw across the table at him. "Having her on the lookout should help. The Peruvian authorities are rather unwilling to get back to me, so I have International Magical Cooperation working on them. In the meantime, MACUSA has agreed to cooperate with us on the Hawai'i lead."

Hermione's scowl vanished. "Do we get to go? Please say that we get to go."

"Only if you tell me that I'm not a prat."

"I can't tell you that, you're definitely a prat." She grinned as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Go on, then."

"Yes, we get to go."

The night suddenly seemed much better. "How soon?"

"Three weeks. MACUSA thinks they've been sneaking onto Kahoʻolawe and using it as a staging area. Risky, but smart. Any magic the creatures use wouldn't trip the MACUSA wards on the island."

"But what about the Muggle federal bans on the surrounding waters?"

Draco waved his hand through the air and wrinkled his nose. "Child's play, Granger. Seriously, how are you still terrible at thinking like a criminal?"

Hermione glared at him. "Because I choose to believe the best of people."

He shook his head and gave her an exasperated sigh in response. This was an old argument, and one he knew he wouldn't win. She smirked as he prodded at the folders in front of her and changed the subject. "Schedules, Granger. Schedules."

"Finally realized you're not going to convince me to be cynical, are you?"

"You're injured. I can't argue with an injured woman."

Hermione snorted. "That's new." Draco winked and took another sip of his whiskey. Hermione finally flipped open her folder to get to work, feeling considerably less annoyed that her evening had been disturbed.

 _9:28 p.m._

She smirked as he reached across the table for the remote control. The theme song of The X-files filled the room again, and he sprawled back on the loveseat, his long legs hanging off the end.

"I don't think seeing you competently using Muggle technology will ever get old," she told him.

He raised an eyebrow at her and took another long swig from his third glass of whiskey. "Well, seeing you resist using magic gets older every day." He motioned at the bag of frozen peas that was draped over her shoulder. "I thought you were supposed to be a well-regarded Healer. Surely you know a charm to do that?"

"Frozen vegetables work better."

"Potter says the same thing but it just doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make sense is why you are so enamoured with this show."

He scoffed at the screen. "It's clearly superior entertainment, Granger."

"It's absolutely ridiculous!" she exclaimed, depositing her empty takeaway box on the coffee table.

"As I said. Superior entertainment." He pointed at the DVD menu on the screen. "We left off on Episode 14, yeah?"

Hermione wrapped herself in the blanket she kept draped over the back of the couch and rearranged her bag of frozen peas on her shoulder. "Maybe we should go back a few and refresh our memories."

He scrolled back to Episode 12 and pressed the play button, tossing the remote on the ground next to the loveseat. With a flick of his wand, a bowl of popcorn floated out of the kitchen and landed on the edge of the table within easy reach for both of them.

Scully and Mulder appeared on the screen with their usual cheesy lines and sexual tension. She watched them interviewing witnesses to this episode's strange phenomena, smiling a bit each time Draco snorted at something or mumbled under his breath. She glanced at him occasionally when she reached for a handful of popcorn, and was pleased to see that he looked normal, truly relaxed, for the first time since Boxing Day.

When he chuckled at the conclusion of the first episode and immediately started the next one, she felt warm inside, glad that her friend was feeling better, if only for a moment.

 _11:49 p.m._

She felt herself being shaken awake and her eyes flew open. The room was dark, except for the glow from the television. Draco was kneeling on the floor next to her couch, holding both their wands in one hand and giving her a familiar squeeze to the forearm with the other.

Draco was used to her startling upon waking by now, after years of stakeouts and overnight raids. It had never bothered him the way it bothered Harry or Ron, who should have understood why she'd never lost that instinct for self-preservation she'd during the war, but didn't. Who should have understood that while they had someone to watch their backs now, they were no longer watching hers and she had to fend for herself. Draco always just gave her arm a squeeze to ground her.

When she relaxed, he pulled his hand away. "I shouldn't be keeping you up while you're healing, Granger. Come on, off to bed with you."

Hermione pushed herself into a seated position and rubbed at her eyes. "I can finish this episode first."

"We can watch it again another time, it's no problem." He reached behind him and retrieved a fresh bag of frozen vegetables from the coffee table, then brandished the bag at her. "Go rest and take care of that shoulder."

"Draco, I really don't mind staying out here if you want to keep watching the show…"

"No, no, you should really go sleep in another room. I can't concentrate on the show with your abhorrent snoring filling the room," he stated, smirking as she spluttered indignantly.

"I was absolutely not snoring!" He cocked an eyebrow at her, so she switched tack. "And if I was, it was not abhorrent. It was… peaceful. Cherubic, even."

His smirk got gentler, an indulgent smile. "I wouldn't go so far as that, but you're right. It wasn't that loud." He gestured toward the hallway sternly. "You're exhausted, Granger, so go to bed. I'll finish this episode and let myself out. Remember, I can turn off the telly by myself now without breaking anything."

Hermione let out an amused sigh, then stood. "Yes, yes, alright. You're competent enough to leave alone with the appliances." He shook the bag of frozen veggies at her again, and she accepted the bag and her wand before shuffling down the short hallway to her bedroom. Pausing in the doorway, she glanced back at him and nodded.

He nodded back and turned away without another word, sinking back into his chair.

 _January 28, 2008 – 2:47 a.m._

She woke to the sound of sobbing coming from the direction of her living room. Hermione glanced at her alarm clock with its digital time and digital date, and suddenly the whole evening made sense. Especially the way he'd insisted that she go to bed while he finished watching the episode she'd fallen asleep on.

A month ago tonight, he'd watched his wife die in their bed. Of course he hadn't gone home.

She padded into the living room and found him curled around Crookshanks on the sofa, his shoulders heaving with his effort to contain himself as the light from the television danced over his features. Had he cried at all, before now?

She slid onto the couch beside him and he moved toward her immediately, placing his head on her thighs, seeking comfort in a way that was almost childlike. He grasped at her like he was searching for an anchor in a storm.

She supposed he was.


	4. Chapter 4: Responsibilities

Chapter 4: Responsibilities

 _February 3, 2008 – 12:35 p.m._

Hermione emerged from the Floo in the entry hall of Draco's home. She barely had time to register that Harry, not Draco, was standing there waiting for her before she was promptly slammed into by a seven-year-old boy who was intent upon hugging her around the waist and repeatedly shouting "Aunt Hermione is here" as loud as he possibly could.

"James Sirius Potter, she is still broken! Get off her immediately." It was a seldom occasion when Harry used that type of stern, parental voice. The type of voice that sounded suspiciously like herself when she'd chided him for not doing his homework. Every time she heard him do it she had to force her face to remain stoic until the kids were out of view.

"I'm not broken anymore," she protested, snaking an arm around the boy's waist and hugging him tightly.

"Ugh, Aunt Hermione, I can't breath!" James flailed dramatically, and she gave him a wicked grin.

"That's what you get for crashing into me without warning. Hold this, Harry. I've got to teach him a lesson."

James stopped flailing at those words and peered up at her with dawning horror on his face. Harry quickly took the large container she'd shoved at him and smirked at his eldest. "What's that mean, a lesson?" the boy asked, and he reminded her so much of Ron that it made her heart feel warm. He knew perfectly well what a lesson from Aunt Hermione meant, after all. "Why are you both smiling like that?"

Hermione proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. Harry danced out of the way as James flailed again, this time laughing uncontrollably and squealing like his three-year-old sister. He finally wiggled out of her grip and danced away from her before scrambling out of the room, calling his brother's name.

"Al! Hey, Al! Come attack Aunt Hermione!"

Harry shook his head and handed the container back to her. "I'm so glad my house doesn't echo." The ghosts of James' laughter were still bouncing off the stone walls of the arguably ostentatious entry hall.

She nodded in agreement and turned toward him, pausing as she noticed Astoria's favorite Burberry coat, the one she'd purchased during a trip to Muggle London two years ago, still hanging from the coatrack. Her shoes were still sitting on the shoe rack near the umbrella stand.

Grief slammed into her as thoroughly as James had, wrapping her in its arms with a solid, strong grip. She struggled against it, felt petrified by it. How did he stand it? How could he be surrounded by the remnants of her presence and face the day?

Maybe he couldn't, and that was why he'd run off to France without a word.

Harry followed her gaze, then cleared his throat. "Everyone's in the sitting room. Let's go and join them, the kids are eager to see you." She didn't move, so he stepped in front of her to break her line of sight. "Remember what you told me after the war? When the funerals were over and I wouldn't leave the house?"

Her mind felt like someone had shoved cotton balls into it, and she struggled to focus on his words instead of on grief's ever-tightening grip. "I… I don't – I – what?"

"Look up." She did, and met his eyes. "What's our rule?" Those words were so familiar, so grounding. Spoken so many times during that horrible year on the run, and everything that came after. "What's our rule, Hermione?"

"We've got to–" She hated the thickness of her voice. "We've got to keep moving."

"That's right, we've got to keep moving." He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the hall, away from the coats and shoes. "Everyone's in the sitting room," he repeated, and she nodded and followed him down the hall.

She was lucky it was a long hallway, because she had time to wipe at her eyes and get control, time to fight grief back enough so that she could take a full breath.

When they rounded the final corner and entered the sitting room, she paused again, astonished to see so many people inside. Harry and Ginny occasionally joined them for Sunday lunch, so that was no surprise. The others, though, were a shock. Blaise was spread out on the floor with Lily, Scorpius and Albus, flicking his wand lazily to make Scorp's model dragons fly around the children's heads. Theo and Daphne sat at one of the couches around the tea table, deep in discussion with Ginny, Andromeda, and Narcissa. James and Teddy were seated on the floor near the floor-to-ceiling windows with their broomsticks and a familiar broomstick servicing kit between them, and Draco appeared to be showing them how to clip broken twigs properly. She'd never seen this many people in the house at once, excepting Astoria's wake and the occasional holiday party.

Scorpius noticed her right away. "Hermione!" He ran straight to her, leaving Albus and little Lily behind. Unlike James, he hugged her with care, not quite able to reach past her hips, and grinned up at her with a hopeful expression. "Did you bring my salad?"

She handed him the container with a wink. "I don't know if I made enough for everyone."

"That's okay. It's just for me."

She ruffled his hair and leaned down to give him a hug. "Take it to the kitchen for me?"

He bounced on the balls of his feet and held the salad container like it was treasure. "Can I go eat it right now?"

Draco had wandered over, and he stood behind Scorpius with a hand on his shoulder. "You need to wait until lunch is ready just like everyone else." He was smiling, but it didn't meet his eyes. His tone was firm and lacked the indulgence with which he usually addressed his son. "Go and put it away for Hermione like she asked, please."

The little boy pouted and ran off down the hall, and Hermione turned to Draco. She hadn't seen him since Monday morning when he'd woken with his eyes swollen from sobbing, his head still in her lap, and promptly fled her flat.

He looked awful, but it wasn't polite to say it. His clothes were usually carefully pressed; although those he wore weren't wrinkled, they lacked their usual crisp look. His pale skin looked as if it were tinted grey, and the bags under his eyes were deep as ever. He also looked like he had lost a bit of weight.

Instead of commenting on his appearance, she gave him the brightest smile she could muster. "What's the occasion?" she asked, gesturing at the crowd in the sitting room.

"I just thought it'd be nice to have everyone around for Sunday lunch, that's all." He seemed to be trying not to meet her eyes. "How's the shoulder?"

"Back to normal since Wednesday." She'd sent him an owl letting him know. He had to have received it.

"Good, I'm glad." But he didn't seem it. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, glancing around the room. "I'm going to go and check on lunch, see how the elves are doing." He ducked around her and exited the room, walking down the hall in the same direction that Scorpius had moments earlier.

She hated when he did this, when he did something that he considered to be socially unacceptable and then shrank away from all interaction until his embarrassment wore off. Was that why he'd invited so many people over? So that he didn't have to be alone with her and risk her confronting him about crying over his wife? He should know her well enough by now to know that she wouldn't fault him for it, wouldn't bring it up again unless he decided he wanted to talk about it.

She heard muffled footsteps behind her on the carpet, and saw Blaise approaching with Lily perched on his shoulders. "Hi Auntie!" the little girl squealed.

"Hello Lily. Are you enjoying being so high up?" She had to crane her neck to see the little girl clearly as Blaise was so tall.

"I flying," she whispered, holding out her arms and flapping them.

Blaise pulled her down and swung her around as she giggled, then set her on the floor. She continued to flap her arms as she ran back toward her brother and the toy dragons in the center of the room. "I don't think I was ever that carefree," he mumbled, watching her go.

"I was. My cousins and I used to pretend we were ponies, and we'd run all day long without a care in the world." Hermione gestured toward a pair of armchairs near the minibar. "Can we chat a moment?"

He nodded and followed her to the more secluded corner of the room. After taking the opportunity to pour himself a nip of scotch from a decanter, he slid into one of the chairs. "I knew your arm had been injured, Granger, but no one mentioned your hair." He gestured at the unkempt curls piled atop her head in a messy bun.

She closed her eyes and counted to three, choosing not to give him the pleasure of a reply. "What's got Draco's wand in a knot today? Or is it just me?"

"Breathe, Granger, and try not to sound so wounded." Blaise winked at her and she scowled back. "Are you referring to the fact that he's been avoiding you all week because he's an absolute coward?"

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it that way, but-"

"-no? He is one. Theodore and I made sure he knows it."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that. "And why were you two discussing me with Draco?" She made a mental note that Ginny was not to be allowed near the two men for the foreseeable future.

Blaise took a sip of his scotch. "Because we took him out for drinks the other night, and once he was good and watered, he told us that he'd had a breakdown at your flat. And that he'd proceeded to run away the next morning like the little ferret he is without bothering to thank you for offering him a shoulder to cry on." He rattled the ice in his glass, then peered up at her. "His manners are appalling, really."

She pursed her lips, surprised that he'd mentioned it to his friend and brother-in-law. "I offered him my lap, actually. My should was still injured, you see," she mumbled, standing to pour her own glass of scotch.

His face lighting up with glee. "He forgot to mention that little detail. How scandalous."

She slid back into her armchair and scowled at him again. "If you can call an evening full of tissues and sobbing a scandal."

"Stuff of romance novels, that is," he quipped, crossing his legs and sitting back in his armchair imperiously. He reminded her distinctly of Crookshanks whenever he brought home a rat and left it on the doorstep.

"Terrible romance novels, maybe." She watched his grin spread and groaned. "You're just as infuriating as Tori. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I count on it." He glanced around the room and leaned toward her conspiratorially. "I've been blessed with both time and a sense of subtlety, unlike dear Astoria. As such, regardless of how infuriating I am, I'm not likely to start encouraging my best mate to jump into your knickers anytime soon. He's not ready for that."

Hermione blushed so deeply she felt like her face was on fire. "I'll thank you to keep your thoughts well away from my knickers from now on."

"You'll have to be more specific, love. All of my thoughts, or just the ones concerning Astoria's little plot?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her blush deepened, but she was saved from having to answer by the appearance of Gertrude, Hermione's favorite Malfoy elf, announcing that lunch was ready. She sprang out of her seat and followed the children down the hall, Blaise's laughter echoing behind her.

 _2:48 p.m._

Following lunch, everyone regrouped in the solarium. The skies had opened to reveal a rare offering of February sun. The children were outside driving through the snow in the Muggle monster truck Hermione had given Scorpius for Christmas, building snowmen, and begging their parents to open the broom cupboard for an afternoon flight.

The Christmas tree was still in its place in the corner. The Stasis Charm that Draco must have placed on it was beginning to fade, and the ends of the pine needles were turning brown. She was sitting in her usual place on the couch, not far from where Astoria's wheelchair still sat, and gazing at the forlorn tree when Blaise approached her once again.

"Fancy a smoke?" he asked quietly, nodding his head toward where Daphne and Theo were waiting by the exit which led to the wraparound porch instead of the back garden.

She eyed the gaggle of children outside, some of whom called her godmother, and bit her lip. "As long as you don't bring up my knickers and the kids don't see."

"They won't see. We can't be corrupting their little minds, allowing them to think that Aunt Hermione is a mere mortal with faults and all." He smirked. "But no promises on the knickers bit."

"Shut it, Blaise." She followed him anyway, leaving Narcissa and Andromeda to their tea and conversation.

Once the four of them were sufficiently bundled, they moved toward the front corner of the porch, well out of eyesight of the children. Blaise pulled a silver case from his pocket and flicked it open to offer cigarettes to the group. Hermione had seen it many times before, but the sight of the posh cigarette case still caused her to snicker.

"Watch it, Granger. One of these days I'll take offense to your uncultured giggling and stop sharing." He swirled his wand and Hermione leaned toward it to light her cigarette, sheltering the gentle flame at the top of the wand from the cool breeze following the length of the porch.

"That would be a sad day, indeed. I can see the headline now. 'Hermione Granger Shows Too Much Amusement, Denied Her Twice-Yearly Cigarette – Exclusive Scoop from the Quill of Rita Skeeter'. An instant sell-out, I'm sure."

Theo chuckled as he leaned toward the flame. "It would be. I doubt anyone believes you would willingly smoke."

She leaned back against the railing and thought about that. "You're probably right. But I only do it when stressed."

Daphne leaned next to Hermione against the porch rails. "Here, here." She took a long drag and angled her head to the side to exhale a cloud of smoke. A pang hit Hermione's heart. Her hair was different, a bright chestnut instead of deep brown, and she was a few inches shorter; despite the differences, when Daphne turned her head just so it was like having Astoria next to her again. The moment was over as soon as it started, when she turned back to the group. "After the morning I've had with Narcissa, this is an entirely necessary pastime."

Hermione flicked her cigarette into the ash tray that Theo had conjured to float between them. "What's going on with Narcissa?"

Theo and Blaise both scowled. "She's sticking her nose into business that's not hers, that's all," Blaise stated, finally lighting his own cigarette and taking a neat, if irritated, drag.

She was briefly annoyed at Blaise's non-answer, but Theo caught her eye and rolled his eyes in Blaise's direction. "The good Lady Malfoy has been trying her very best to get Daphne to join her crusade to convince Draco that it's time to remove his wife's belongings from the household. You know… to help him 'move forward' and all."

Hermione's gaze snapped to Daphne. "You're kidding me?"

"No, not at all. She walks right up to me when we get here this morning, right in front of Scorpius, and says 'Daphne, dear, don't you think Astoria would prefer her family to feel more comfortable in their home now that she's passed?' Honestly, I've never seen Draco so livid." She cut herself off and took another drag.

Theo took over the explanation. "You know how he is with his mother – all calm and collected, very proper." He shook his head. "Not this morning. He called for an elf to take Scorpius upstairs, which isn't something he usually allows, and then silenced the room and yelled himself hoarse at her. Things like 'how dare you step foot in this house and try to erase my wife's memory' and calling her a poisonous snake, saying he doesn't want her to be alone with Scorpius and putting any ideas in his head."

Blaise reached over and tapped his finger under Hermione's chin. "Close that, or you'll catch a billywig, love."

She scowled at him and then turned back to Theo. "How did she take it?" She suddenly wondered if Astoria's predictions that Narcissa would start playing matchmaker for her son would come true so quickly, barely a month after her daughter-in-law's passing. She'd come to know Narcissa a bit over the years, and though the woman was cold at best, she hadn't thought she would be that callous.

Daphne answered her. "Shockingly well. She's like ice." She narrowed her eyes. "She started spouting off some nonsense about how removing all of Lucius' things helped her move forward after he was sentenced. How she only wants the best for Draco and for Scorpius…"

Hermione took a few calming breaths of winter air, then brought her cigarette to her lips again. "Oh, I'll be he didn't like that." Lucius had said the same words during his trial, and Draco had refused to speak to him ever since.

"No. No, he didn't." Daphne bit her lip hard, and Hermione could see that she was barely containing tears. She flapped a hand through the air. "Anyway, she went back up to the main house after that and he went straight to the fireplace and invited everyone here for lunch."

Blaise gave Hermione a half grin that didn't reach his eyes. "So you see, love, it's not just that he's a coward and that he's trying to avoid you. He needed a veritable human shield to distract him from his mother."

She nodded and pulled too deeply on her cigarette. Theo thumped her on the back as she coughed, and her eyes stung. They were silent for a time, looking out over the rolling grounds of the Malfoy estate toward the Manor looming in the distance.

"The worst part is that she's not completely wrong," Daphne said quietly a few moments later. "Did you lot notice the Christmas tree?" Her eyes were full again.

Theo rubbed his hand up and down Daphne's arm. "He'll take it down when he's ready," he assured her, with a worried glance in Hermione's direction. "Don't you think?"

Distantly, she heard Blaise agreeing with Theo and offering comfort to Daphne. She nodded her agreement, but at the same time, she thought of Astoria's coat and shoes in the entry hall. Thought about the bottle of perfume that she herself still kept on her bathroom counter. The same scent her mother had always worn, a scent she never wore but refused to forget. She still opened the bottle on particularly bad days, like night that Ron had left she and Harry alone in a tent. The day they buried Fred. The night Astoria died.

How could a person ever be ready to truly say goodbye?

 _February 4, 2008 – 8:04 a.m._

She'd barely been in the office five minutes when a memo flew through her door and began to demand attention by poking her in the forehead. She'd been resolutely attempting to ignore an ostentatious bouquet and corresponding bright pink envelope that sat in the far corner of her desk. She was nearly certain they were from Seamus, and even though the memo's poking was annoying, she was happy for the distraction. She snatched the memo out of the air and spread it flat on the desk.

4 February 2008  
Meeting Notification: 8:15 a.m., Grand Conference Room (Level 1)  
Reg: DMLE – Maladies and Injuries Division  
Attendees:  
Department of Magical Law Enforcement  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries  
Minister of Magic and Support Staff  
Department for Professional Licensing

Her stomach did a flip, and she stared down at the flashy gold writing in disbelief.

She completely forgot about the bouquet and immediately abandoned her office, crossed the hall and swung Draco's door open. His office was still dark. It appeared he hadn't arrived yet. As she pulled the door closed, she heard her name being called down the hall and turned around with a grin. Harry waved at her and walked toward her, a notebook and Quick Quotes Quill in hand.

"Are you ready to head up?" he asked, waving the notebook at her.

"Yes! Yes – oh! Wait!" Suddenly frazzled, she returned to her office and grabbed a notepad and ballpoint pen. As soon as she rejoined him in the hall, she began assaulting him with questions. "Do you have any idea what this is about?"

"Hermione, it says what it's about on the memo. You didn't have to ace Divination to kn–"

"Did you know this was coming?"

"Will you believe me if I'm honest and say no?"

"You had to have known it was coming. Do they have a timeline established?"

"Why don't you wait until we get up there and you can ask Kingsley, Robards, and the Dean–"

"Do you know when we'll get to start hiring?"

"Again, let's wait until we get up–"

"–do I still get to go to Hawai'i for the smuggling case?" She smiled endearingly at him as they reached the lift bank.

"How in the bloody hell did you even know about Hawai'i? You've been on medical leave! Draco shouldn't have told you about that." He paused, pressed the button for the lift, then looked down at her with a strange look on his face. "You know, I'm shocked that a trip to Hawai'i even came to your mind in light of the colossal amount of work coming your way. Good for you."

She gave him a deadpan stare as she pressed the button for the lift. "It's Hawai'i."

He returned the look as they both grabbed a handle and braced themselves against the jolt on the lift. "And you're Hermione Granger. You generally take more joy from extra assignments than from the prospect of a vacation."

She brushed away the allusion to her odd tendencies. "It's a work trip, isn't it? She ignored Harry's amused sigh. "My unit isn't going to like this."

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's part of what you came here to do. They approved your position specifically for this phase of transition in the department."

She wobbled as the left came to a jarring halt and slid forward. "Yes, well, they've come to depend on me as a fellow Auror instead of just as a member of the support team."

"That's entirely my fault," he admitted. "When someone is capable of doing two jobs, you shouldn't always let them." Harry gave her a wink and they exited the lift to start down the hall toward the large conference room in the Minister's suite.

"I like justice. Always have. I could hardly resist the opportunity to enforce it _and_ save the world one law enforcement agent at a time."

"I accept your claim to a portion of fault," he joked.

"Excellent." They paused in front of the conference room, and Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. Harry was right – this is what she'd left St. Mungo's for. The chance to establish the framework for and lead an entirely new division within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was important to her. Moving on, though… that would be the tough bit.

Harry swung the door open and she stepped inside. A considerable amount of people were already gathered around the table. Kingsley, Gawain Robards, and the department head from Magical Professional Licensing. Some of her old colleagues from the emergency department at St. Mungo's sat alongside the Dean of the hospital, Giles Pembley. And at the far corner of the table, fiddling with his quill and looking uncharacteristically small, sat Draco Malfoy.

She stood next to Harry as he shook hands with the Minister and some of the others, and met Draco's gaze. His grey eyes looked troubled, cautious and stormy. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking of the changes to come. Would Draco still come over on Monday nights when they didn't have scheduling and investigative work to do? Would their friendship blink out like a dying star without work or Astoria to bind it? Then he smiled, the first genuine smile she'd seen from him in over a month. It pushed away the clouds in his eyes, and she couldn't help but smile back.

 _February 11, 2008 – 7:49 p.m._

They were halfway through the yellow curry and fighting over the last samosa when the fireplace in Draco's sitting room blazed emerald and revealed a manically grinning Harry Potter.

"I don't like the look on your face, Potter." Draco sneered at him. It was an expression that would have been normal on his teenaged face, but which was unfamiliar to his adult one. His previously pointed features had become more angular, and the laugh lines around his eyes betrayed his true nature too thoroughly for the sneer to ring true. Hermione was comforted to realize that his resemblance to his father was less marked than it had been all those years ago.

"Good – your face pains me regularly. Payback is sweet." Harry tossed a large manila envelope at him before plucking the samosa out of the takeaway box and popping it into his mouth.

Draco tossed a couch pillow at him. "We were going to eat that, you prat."

Harry just smirked and pointed at the envelope. "You'll want to open that." He reached for one of the extra plastic forks on the table and settled in an armchair across the table from where Draco and Hermione sat on the couch.

Draco reached forward and closed the lid of the takeaway box on top of his hand. "Get your hands out of our curry, Potter. And stop smiling like you've had more Cheering Charms than you can handle."

Hermione watched them struggle against one another, a battle which Harry quickly won owing to the near collapse of the flimsy takeaway box and Draco's sense of self-preservation as he dodged a spill of the yellow sauce. "Are you going to open that or not?" Harry demanded, slightly resembling Ron as he began to shovel food into his mouth before Draco recovered. He'd never quite gotten over the habit of eating too fast, not even after years of Molly and Ginny's cooking.

Draco whispered something under his breath that sounded very much like "bollocks for brains, that one" as he ripped the seal on the envelope and pulled out a dark grey folder. The scowl vanished from his face immediately and he paused to stare down at the cover. His cheeks took on an unfamiliar pink tinge that he only ever acquired when very embarrassed or exhilarated, and he began to pace back and forth behind the couch.

Hermione looked at Harry in alarm, but he only winked and sat back in his armchair to watch the rare display of what he'd long ago named the "Malfoy Meltdown". She glanced back at Draco – predictable as ever, he'd moved into the stage where he was gripping at the ends of his hair in apparent distraction, causing him to look rumpled. She craned her neck and caught sight of the front of the folder, which was embossed with the gleaming silver seal of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Is that–" She pointed excitedly at the folder in Draco's hands. "Is that what I think it is?"

Harry shushed her, watching as Draco finally flipped the folder open and began to read. "Let the man take it in before you get all screechy."

She scowled at him but remained silent as requested while Draco read and then continued his pacing in front of the fire. He was now entering the controlled stage, the stage where he tried to keep his emotions under control and stay properly poised.

It didn't last long. When he turned around, he was smiling. She hadn't seen him so excited since Scorpius had been born. "Well, what do they want?" she insisted, curiosity besting her.

Harry laughed before he began to explain. "The Minister discussed the smuggling case with them at last week's meeting. He's told them about the planning we're doing to try and stop them in Hawai'i and the lack of cooperation with Peru's Ministry. They're stepping in to facilitate cooperative efforts with Peru."

Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful news!"

Draco put his hands into his disheveled hair again. "They're taking over jurisdiction on the case, and they've commissioned me to lead the investigation on behalf of the Confederation."

She decided that it was fine to screech a bit at such news and did so as she vaulted off the couch to hug Draco tightly. Her momentum caused them to rock dangerously backwards for a moment, but he recovered and hugged her back, laughing in disbelief. Several of his past investigations had been taken over by the ICW, and he'd attributed his removal from those cases to his questionable past. Hermione knew he'd long since accepted that his wartime activities would cause his career to stall and prevent him from advancing past his current position within the Auror department.

Harry was there an instant later, curry forgotten, to clap him on the back. "It's well-deserved, mate."

"I'm forgiven, at last," Draco joked, pulling away from Hermione to shake Harry's hand. For the first time since Astoria died, there was excitement and hope in his eyes. "Did you know this was coming?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

"A little warning might've been nice. I don't handle excitement very well, Potter." He glared at Harry, but his tone was light and teasing.

"I tell him that all the time," Hermione muttered. "He never listens."

Harry just smiled and ignored her. "Yes, well, here's some warning about what comes next. They want you to port over to the office in Paris tomorrow for the initial debrief. You'll likely get sent straight off to New York to coordinate with MACUSA. I've had a letter from Luna – she's made some headway with the Peruvians. The Confederation is already out there trying to sort out why they've been stalling, so you might even have to go to Cuzco if they make any progress with the Peruvians tonight. Get a good night's sleep. You'll be exhausted. I'll take lead on your other cases until ICW closes this one. Also, Ginny was hoping she could borrow Scorpius for the day tomorrow – she and Fleur are taking the kids to London for a bit of fun tomorrow."

Draco just nodded, distracted. "Absolutely, he'll love that. I'll bring him by before I head out for the day."

"Pack an overnight bag for him just in case they send you home late," Harry advised.

As they continued to chat about the case and what Draco could expect upon his arrival in Paris the next day, Hermione could feel unexpected tears welling in her eyes. She bit down hard on her lip to keep them contained. Draco hadn't even noticed that Harry had sneakily planned for Scorpius to be well taken care of while he was away. This was a good thing, as he generally responded to kindness with suspicion, protesting anything he perceived to be unwanted charity. He was too distracted to notice that now, though. Draco was practically vibrating with excitement and restlessness, as she had upon leaving the prior week's meeting about the new medical division of the DMLE. He'd needed something good to happen in his life, and she couldn't wait to watch his career grow. After so much bad, this news was exactly what he needed.

 _February 13, 2008 – 9:45 a.m._

Draco dropped the chalk back into the tray at the base of the board, and his signature smirk spread across his face. "Field triage." A groan resounded through the conference room as Draco planted his hands on the table and leaned toward Seamus Finnegan. "You're rubbish at it." He began to walk slowly around the perimeter of the conference room, his eyes sharp as he made eye contact with each Auror in the room. "Robards and Minister Shacklebolt have recently completed a review of our missions over the last six months. Although the amount of field injuries have significantly decreased since Auror Granger joined the department, we've still got work to do."

He gestured toward where Hermione, Dean Thomas, and Ernie MacMillan stood at the front of the room. "Auror Granger will be training the entire department on field triage techniques alongside Healers Thomas and MacMillan from St. Mungo's. They'll start by retraining all of you. If you'll take a moment to think back to late 2005, you might remember taking a course with Auror Granger on the very same topic. That was a very long time ago, so I know this may be difficult for you to remember." Hermione thought Draco sounded entirely too delighted to have the excuse to exercise his sarcasm. He allowed an awkward silence to fill the room. "You're all eligible to lead missions, which means you ought to know how to take care of your people in a crisis. Auror Robards and Minister Shacklebolt will be testing your knowledge at the end of this course." His smirk turned playful. "Please, do pay attention this time around. I imagine you don't fancy having to take Blood Replenishing Potions for a week should you fail the practical exams." Hermione hid a grin behind her hand. He was reminding her of Professor Snape, threatening to make them drink their antidotes to test their efficacy against poison.

Most of the people in the room had been at Hogwarts around the same time as Hermione; judging by their pale faces, they seemed to make the same connection.

Draco smirked and leaned against the wall near the chalkboard. "Good. You all seem to realize that I'm serious about that last. Training begins at 10:30 in Training Room 3. Take notes this time, will you?"

 _February 13, 2008 – 3:24 p.m._

A mess of false blood and discarded gauze, bandages, and other medical equipment remained scattered around the room after the afternoon's practical for proper wound care. Hermione's head felt just as messy.

"Do you recall when Professor Snape called us 'dunderheads' in first year?" Ernie MacMillan asked abruptly, jabbing his wand at the tables near the back where Bridget Fawley had struggled with tying a proper tourniquet.

She gave him a grim nod as she, too, jabbed her wand in that direction to help siphon the blood away. "Yes. I have a new respect for him – 'dunderhead' is the perfect word, I think."

"I know they haven't all had years of extra training the way we did, but honestly. Who would use Reparo on a wound and expect it to work? That's second year Charms theory!" Dean Thomas was toward the front of the room, wielding a mop loaded with Magical Mess Remover.

With a groan, she flicked her wand at piles of soiled bandages and watched as they deposited themselves in the bin. "Not everyone paid as much attention as us in second year Charms, apparently."

"Well, we feel like proper idiots for that now." Ernie and Hermione both whirled around to find Seamus leaning against the doorjamb. Hermione cursed mentally, recalling the fire lilies and the bright pink Flutterby blooms from her first day back. She'd successfully avoided giving Seamus an opening since she'd returned, but that hadn't stopped him from sending a fresh bouquet of flowers (normal roses, this time, thank Merlin) to her office late last week, and delivering a hot cup of chamomile tea to her on Tuesday morning.

She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she didn't drink chamomile – it reminded her too much of her mother – and instead had dropped it into a bin down the hall in the Wizengamot's offices at the first opportunity.

"Could I have a word, Hermione?"

She froze, then glanced sidelong at Ernie, who continued to siphon blood from the table. She refused to look at Dean, who was doing very little to contain his chuckles while smirking at his best friend.

So… Seamus had been discussing his little flower stunts with Dean. Just great.

She decided to try and evade. "I've got to stay and help clean this up, and then I've got a meeting over in Magical Professional Licensing…"

Ernie, oblivious, glanced up. "We've got it under control, Hermione, it's no problem." Dean laughed out loud before pressing his fist to his mouth. Toddlers, the both of them. Traitorous toddlers. She attempted to channel Medusa in her glare at Dean, but instead of looking intimidated, he looked like he was enjoying it.

With a sharp inhale, she turned back to Seamus. "Where to? My office?" She didn't wait for him to answer as she left the room and started down the hallway.

Halfway down the hall, he broke the silence. "How's the shoulder?"

"It's back to normal, mostly. The bones are still young, of course, so I'm dealing with growing pains, but that will pass." She bit her lip for a moment, and then gave in to her instinct to be polite. "Thanks for the flowers and the cards, by the way, that was nice of you."

"I'm glad it's healed up. I didn't much like seeing you all mucked up like that." He shuddered, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Certainly you've seen worse!"

"I have, but you're always the one doing the fixing. Seeing you needing fixing yourself was unsettling." They'd reached her office door by now, and he stood awkwardly in the entry, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor.

"Well, I'm perfectly fine, now. You handled the situation well. Seriously, don't think another moment on it."

They were quiet for a moment as she shuffled through a desk drawer for the agenda and documents she'd need for her meeting with Magical Professional Licensing.

When she looked up, he was leaning against the doorjamb again. "So. You never answered about that dinner." She briefly thought about her discussion with Ginny back at the flat as she looked up and met his gaze. He gave her a slow half smile. She'd never noticed how bright his hazel eyes were, before, or how nice his smile was. His gaze made it clear that this was not to be a friend or colleague dinner.

"I… uhm, well – Seamus, I just don't think it's a good idea. Dating people you work with – it just gets messy, that's all."

His smile only grew. "Just say yes, Hermione. The worst you can tell me later is that you don't want to go out again, and there'll be no hard feelings. But why not give it a chance?"

Despite how frustrating he'd been when he was strutting around, moping about the fact that she'd been placed in charge of the unit while Draco was away, she considered the idea. It was nice, being looked at with this much warmth.

"Alright, fine. Yes. Yes, dinner would be nice," she choked out, breaking eye contact, trying very hard to keep her cheeks from turning pink.

"Are you free tomorrow evening?"

She nearly dropped her pen. "Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, Seamus."

His half smile turned into a full one. "I know. A little cheesy, but also a good night for a date, don't you think?"

"All of the restaurants will be crowded."

He smirked and pushed himself off the door frame. "Who says we're having dinner at a restaurant?" he teased. He took a few steps backwards, into the hall. "Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 6:30 tomorrow night," he told her, more confident than she'd have ever expected from him. "Bring a coat." With a wink, he walked away, leaving her to blush and stare, wide-eyed, at the roses still sitting at the corner of her desk.

 _February 14, 2008 – 6:05 p.m._

She was smoothing her dress over her hips when she heard the Floo activate in the living room. She wasn't expecting any visitors, and with a frown, she pulled her eyes off her reflection and stepped out of her bedroom.

"Granger, I can never remember – is it Chinese take-away that Albus won't eat, or is it spaghetti?" Draco was in her kitchen, sifting through the take-away menus stored in one of her kitchen drawers.

She stood in the middle of her living room, watching him quizzically. "How on Earth are those two items crossed in your mind?"

"It's the noodles," he mumbled, engrossed in by a postcard advertisement for a new pizza place that had opened nearby. "Chicago pizza? What's that, is that different than normal pizza?"

She stepped toward him, chuckling. "It's made with a different kind of crust. Kind of like the crust on a dessert pie."

"You can decide, then. Chicago pizza or Chinese?" He glanced up at her at long last, freezing for a moment as he took in her appearance. Finally, he gestured at her dress with the postcard. "I didn't realize that dinner with us and the Potter-spawn was a black-tie affair. I'm flattered, really."

She frowned at him, confused. "Are you expecting me this evening?"

He hesitated. "Well… yes? You've always watched Scorpius for us on Valentine's Day, so I thought you'd be spending the evening over at mine. Like normal." He swallowed heavily, his eyes flitting between her carefully pinned hair and sapphire blue wrap dress. "I suppose I should have checked."

 _Take care of him for me._

She felt a swift flare of guilt. It was quickly followed by annoyance at Astoria for her request. Annoyance at Draco for assuming she had a standing appointment to serve him and his family every February 14. At herself for feeling guilty that she'd said yes to a date. Then, she felt sympathy, because although she didn't know what it was like to lose a spouse, she did know how it felt to be the one relegated to watch the children while everyone else went out for a romantic evening.

She bit her lip and backed away, intent on busying her hands. She crossed the sitting room and opened her coat closet, shuffling through the options mindlessly. Finally, she cleared her throat and looked back at him.

"You were right. It's the noodles. He won't eat anything with noodles. If you get Chinese take-away, he likes the broccoli beef and dumplings. And Lily will likely insist on eating off your plate instead of her own."

He scowled. "That's not very mannerly, but she's too cute to refuse." He walked across the room, his hands in his pockets, and leaned around her into the coat closet. "This one." He plucked a deep grey peacoat from the rack, holding it up next to her dress. "It'll go well with the dress."

She took the coat and draped it over her arm. "I'll come by tonight once I get home. I'm not sure what time, but certainly I'll be earlier than Harry and Ginny."

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'm likely going to spoil them all with sweets. No one else needs to endure that amount of energy." He cleared his throat and walked toward the hearth, retrieving some Floo power from the little bowl she kept on the mantel. "See you at work tomorrow, then?"

She nodded, and he threw the powder into the flames.

"Draco!" she called out, taking two steps toward the hearth. She was tempted to call the whole thing off at the look on his face, strangely resigned. "I should've realized that you'd want company tonight. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for having a life, Granger." He lifted his head and adopted his usual haughty stance. "It's about time you got out a bit, anyway, you're always such a homebody. That dress needs to get out of your closet before the moths settle in."

She bit back a grin. "You're sure?"

"Yes, yes, go and have a good time with the lucky bloke, whoever he is. It's not every day your hair decides to behave, after all. You've got to take advantage of such a rare occurrence." He winked at her as she laughed, and stepped into the green flames, vanishing from view.

 _February 26, 2008 – 2:43 p.m._

They were putting the finishing touches on their perimeter strategy with some help from one of the Aurors from MACUSA when Draco dropped his pen. She glanced sidelong at him, and his expression made her chest clench. He looked like he had when she'd punched him long ago, stunned by his own shock.

He retrieved his pen from the surface of the conference table and stood up, approaching the blackboard. He had a pleasant smile on his face now, but his eyes were cold steel. "Finnegan – take me out of the perimeter, will you?" He clapped a hand on Rhys' shoulder as he passed his place at the table. "Give Cadwallader something to do – he's getting too accustomed to being a lay-about."

Rhys looked over his shoulder at Draco in disbelief, his eyes shining. "Seriously?"

Draco grinned, and at least that reached his eyes. "Don't let it get to your head." He shook his head, seemingly amused, as Rhys spun the chair around to shake his hand enthusiastically. The conference room filled with chatter as the rest of the team congratulated the younger Auror. As Seamus set about inserting him into the perimeter formations, Draco caught Hermione's eye and nodded his head toward the door. "Granger – I need a word with Potter. Will you come along?" He didn't wait for her answer, and instead slid out of the door into the hallway beyond.

She gathered her notebook and followed him, exchanging a startled look with Seamus. The others didn't seem to take much notice of the situation being odd – perhaps because they'd always taken direction from Draco instead of working directly with him. She could see that Seamus was wondering the same thing she was, though. Since when did Draco Malfoy back out of the opportunity to hold a lead position on a mission?

She slipped into the hallway to find him leaning against the wall, his hair uncharacteristically disheveled, and breathing hard as if he'd been running. "What's happened? Are you alright?"

"I can't go on the trip, Granger." He shook his head and let his hands fall as he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I can't believe I didn't think about this sooner." He sounded petulant, with a touch of self-loathing. He pushed off the wall and started walking in the direction of Harry's office, slowing only minutely as she hurried to catch up with him.

"What are you going on about? You've got a golden opportunity to shut down a global smuggling operation on behalf of the ICW and you're suddenly deciding that you can't go on the trip?" She gaped at him, aware that her voice had become shrill but not entirely caring. This was not like him at all – where was his usual sense of ambition, his need to solve the most complicated cases? Where was the excitement from the night Harry had dropped off the Confederation's summons?

She expected him to respond to her incredulity with his usual fire and sarcasm, but instead he seemed to shrink. "I've suddenly remembered that I've a six-year-old son to worry about, and no partner at home to care for him for weeks at a time while I'm off advancing my career." Hermione hadn't heard this much pain in his voice since Astoria's funeral. "I've been so excited about this opportunity that I didn't even think about him. In the back of my mind, I guess I just thought that he'd be home with Tori, like always." They had reached the end of the hall, and he paused outside of Harry's office. "What kind of father am I?"

Draco didn't give her a chance to answer. Instead, he knocked on Harry's office door, then barged inside without waiting for an answer. Hermione followed, closing the door softly behind her as he immediately began to pace in front of Harry's desk. She leaned against the door and felt fiercely protective, the same way she had when he'd cried himself to sleep in her lap.

Harry barely glanced up from the case file he was reviewing as Draco attempted to wear a hole in his office rug. It dawned on Hermione that Draco's manic agitation must be a frequent occurrence, due to Harry's lack of reaction.

Finally, Draco stopped pacing and gripped the back of one of Harry's guest chairs. "I need to hand the case over to you, Potter."

Harry flipped the case file and flicked his wand toward where she stood, silencing the room. "That sounds like a great way to bollocks-up your career, Malfoy. You're not backing out."

Draco exploded. "I can't leave Scorp here alone while I'm halfway around the world for Merlin knows how long. My mother isn't an option, she'll just poison his head. Same with Tori's parents. He doesn't know Andromeda well enough. Granger's on the case, too, and Daphne and Theo have no idea what to do with a child." He looked up at Harry, completely unguarded. "I know I'm making the Ministry look bad in backing out, Potter–"

"Stop talking, Malfoy," Harry demanded, using the tone that he only used when issuing orders. He could tell that Draco was about to ignore him, and he held up a hand. "Seriously, shut up, mate. You're going to stay on the case and do your job, and Scorpius is coming along. So are my wife and children, and Ginny's already offered to watch him while we're working. Honestly, I'm a little offended that you didn't even consider us as suitable babysitters, but I'll let that slide this time."

Draco was pacing again, glaring suspiciously at Harry. "Why on Earth would Ginny and the children be coming on a work trip?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The work trip is in Hawai'i. It's far less trouble to bring them along than to listen to her complaining about how I didn't for the rest of my natural life. You know her. That's exactly what would happen." Draco couldn't argue with that – he'd witnessed some of Ginny's famous grudges, and he knew that avoiding them in the first place was the best course of action. "Listen, If Ginny coming along means you get to close this case and have your son nearby, then it's a win-win for everyone." Hermione groaned – Harry should've stopped while he was ahead.

Draco responded predictably. "If she's coming just to help me, then do me a favor and tell her no."

Harry snorted in response. Hermione bit her lip and anxiously pushed herself off the door, starting toward Draco. He was glaring at Harry. Harry stood up and walked around his desk, beating her to him. He gripped Draco's shoulder, hard, and stopped his frenetic pacing. "I don't know how it's still a foreign concept to you after all this time, Malfoy, but friends help each other. You've been working toward this chance for years. I know you're trying to do right by Scorpius, but you also need to do right by yourself. Astoria would say the same thing."

"Somehow I doubt that, Potter," Draco snarled.

Harry returned to his desk chair and pulled open a drawer, sifting through a pile of parchment before pushing a piece across his desk toward Draco. "Read that, then, and stop doubting. I made her a promise, and I intend to keep it." Draco grabbed the parchment angrily and glanced down at it. He then lowered himself into one of the chairs in front of Harry's desk as he read. Harry clapped him on the back a little roughly and cleared his throat. "When you're done, pull yourself together and get back to work."

Harry opened his office door and caught Hermione's eye, nodding his head toward it. She hesitated for only a moment before walking out of the office. Harry closed the door behind him. "Is it too early for a whiskey?" he asked.

She followed him as he walked toward the lifts, ignoring his question. "What was that you gave him to read?"

"A letter from Astoria. She sent me a letter telling me not to let him quit or give up on his ambitions to stay home and raise Scorpius. And she asked Ginny to encourage him to accept help from other people. There isn't any Seer blood in her family, is there?"

Startled, she paused in the middle of the hallway. "No, I don't think so. Just the curse…" She tapped her wand against her thigh. "She asked favors of everybody, then?"

Harry turned back to face her. "Pretty much, yeah. Each one as impossible as the next. She knew him so well, it's scary sometimes. I keep thinking about it – if I knew I had to leave Ginny, what directions would I leave for everyone else to make sure she got on?"

They continued walking to the lifts in silence. Hermione gripped the handrail as the lift barreled toward the Atrium, lost in thought.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey there readers! Thank you so much for your patience. I hope the long chapter slightly makes up for the wait. I'm participating in NaNoWriMo and doing work on my original novel, so I don't anticipate being able to post another update for this story until early/mid-December. I hope you're enjoying the story so far - please leave a review and let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5: Rest and Relaxation

Chapter 5: Rest and Relaxation

 _Friday, March 7, 2008 – 9:50 p.m. (United Kingdom)_

"You're sure you don't mind watching him for so long?" she asked again.

Ron rolled his eyes and held up her Auror-issued duffel bag. "My answer isn't going to change any, so you'd do well to stop asking. Besides, Mum needs some help de-gnoming the garden this week. I'll bring Crooks along and let him chase the little buggers. He'll be so excited he won't even notice you're gone."

She grabbed her backpack from the nearby armchair, checked to ensure that her beaded bag was inside, and then gave her sitting room a final glance.

Ron cleared his throat. "So, listen. I went out for drinks with Seamus and Dean the other night, and Seamus said–"

She groaned. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll have said absolutely nothing," she mumbled.

"He said you two have been seeing each other for the last few weeks." Ron planted himself directly in front of the Floo, making it clear that she wasn't getting out of talking about it if she wanted to make her Portkey. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"

"It's casual, Ron." She pulled her rolling suitcase toward her and stood tall, giving him that look of hers that usually made Ron shrivel and get out of her way.

He stood firm. It was no use. He was in his element, wanting to tease, and nothing was going to stop him. "Casual, hm? Coffee and drinks casual, or drinks and sheets casual?" She flicked her wand at him, barely missing his legs with a Tarantellegra Jinx. Ron's eyes went wide, and he guffawed at her, pointing at her face. "Drinks and sheets? No! Hermione! I'm so proud of you."

She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the hearth, eager to be out of range of his teasing. "You and your sister are a cut below the rest, you know that?"

"She's proud of you, too?" He leaned an elbow on the mantel. "No need to be embarrassed about having a shag or two, 'Mione. It's good for you, now and again." He clapped his hands in anticipation. "I can't wait to tell Susan it's true."

"Do _not_ tell Susan anything, Ronald Weasley."

"She really could do with a good laugh, though."

She decided that the conversation was over and walked into the green flames.

 _Friday, March 7, 2008 – 10:05 p.m. (United Kingdom)_

When she entered the International Portkey office and saw the state of the waiting room, she'd never been more pleased to be on the Auror team. It appeared that Ginny wasn't the only Ministry wife tagging along, and it looked like the tiny waiting room may need an Undetectable Extension Charm to comfortably hold all the people trying to cram inside.

She dropped her baggage off with a Porter, then strode over to where Harry and Draco stood near the front of the queue. Scorpius was bouncing excitedly between them. She tapped the little boy on the shoulder. "Mind if I join you?"

He jumped at her and hugged her, enthusiastic as ever, then pulled away with a smirk that made him look just like his father. "James and Al have to wait with everyone else, but I get to go with you."

Draco gave him a stern yet amused look. "Don't gloat about that, or I might send you along with them after all."

"No way!" Scorpius started a staring contest with his father. Draco looked unimpressed but held the boy's gaze with a bored expression on his face. The contest didn't last long as Scorpius got distracted when a large luggage pile vanished from the room with the Porter, and Draco snorted as the child resumed his bouncing.

Harry handed Hermione a small embossed envelope. She glanced down at the logo and blanched.

"The ICW approved this? It's one of the most expensive resorts on the island."

"Please tell me you didn't research all the resorts on the island just so that you could swot about them to us." The disdain in Draco's voice made her smirk triumphantly in his direction. She opened her mouth to retort, but Harry beat her to it.

"Why would that surprise you, Malfoy? She can't resist her nature." Harry shrugged. "Anyway, it's got a direct view of Kaho'olawe, and it's the only one in the area that had enough room to house all of the Aurors." He adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Room keys and all the usual pamphlets are in your envelope, Hermione. I made sure you got a room with a nice view."

"Are there any rooms without a nice view?"

"Not really," he quipped.

"Well, thanks ever so much for all that hard work, then. How can I ever thank you for this exclusive perk?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in disdain. "I'll thank you both to keep your witty comebacks to a minimum. It's much too late for this."

Hermione turned to him and grinned mischievously. "We can hold off until we get to the island. It won't be too late, there."

Draco glared at her. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You're not looking forward to the ten-hour time difference, then?" She glanced around the room and waved at Cadwallader. The younger man was bouncing almost as energetically as Scorpius.

"As long as I get a nap before we debrief, it'll be fine." He nodded at his son. "I doubt this one will let that happen, though. He's been spouting nonsense about sea turtles for the past week, and I have a feeling he won't let any of us rest until he sees one."

Scorpius tugged at Hermione's sleeve until she bent down so he could whisper in her ear. "Daddy is joking about taking a nap, right?"

She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Probably not." She crouched next to the boy. "He's got a very big job to do when we get to the island, so it's probably a good idea for him to have a nap so he doesn't get grumpy. No one likes it when he's grumpy."

Scorpius nodded in agreement.

She smirked and glanced up at Draco, who scowled and turned away. "How about you and I go down to the beach and swim for a bit once we get there? Daddy can sleep, we can try to find some sea turtles–"

"Like Crush!"

The kids had been insisting on watching Finding Nemo during their Wednesday play dates at Harry and Ginny's over the last two weeks. Ginny had shut Hermione down immediately when she'd tried to explain to the children that the movie was set in Australia and not Hawai'i. She much preferred being called a swot to her newest title, "Hermione – Destroyer of Imagination".

"Yes, just like Crush," she said indulgently, pleased that this fact, at least, was true. Green turtles cold be found in both locales.

"And maybe we'll see Mr. Ray!"

"We'll see." She didn't much like the thought of running into a large ray with Scorpius in tow. She didn't think Scorp would much like it, either, when he realized the creature didn't actually sing.

One of the Porters appeared with a long length of bright orange yarn, which Hermione assumed was the Portkey. She stood back up and gazed around the room once more as everyone began moving toward the front of the room, confirming that everyone scheduled to work the case was present. Other than Henry O'Rourke, who was across the room checking on his wife and their young son, everyone was accounted for. She caught Seamus' steady gaze from across the room. The same steady gaze that had been trained on her figure as she'd let her dress fall off her body in his living room earlier that week. She felt heat pool in her stomach as she recalled that evening. She'd have to throttle him later for saying something to Ron. Even if he'd probably enjoy the throttling.

She tore her eyes away before he used the opportunity to make her blush.

Draco had Scorpius' backpack thrown over his shoulder and was holding his son's hand as the rest of the Aurors moved forward to the Portkey. His eyes flicked to Seamus before focusing on her. "Ready, Granger?"

She nodded and took Scorpius' other hand as they walked to the Portkey. "Sand and sunburns, here we come."

 _Friday, March 7, 2008 – 6:45 p.m. (Mau'i, Hawai'i)_

The sunset was glorious, a burning orange glow rimmed with pink and lavender hues, with nearly phosphorescent wisps of white cloud streaking across the sky. Hermione had seen some beautiful sunsets during her days camping with Harry and Ron, but none had been like this. The ocean reflected the light, and the very land beneath her feet seemed to sing with it. The beach continued to radiate the sun's warmth back into her body, even as the air started to cool around her. Her hair flowed freely in the gentle ocean breeze.

Scorpius stood knee-deep in the waves, repeatedly bending forward to scoop his hands into the water and fling them into the air. The drops of water hovered in the air for longer than they should in a subtle but beautiful display of accidental magic, like hundreds of glittering gemstones caught in a spider's web. In the rain of seawater that followed, he giggled endlessly. He was so joyful, so carefree. Exactly the way a little boy should be. She wished Draco had come to the beach with them, that he could candidly watch his son's happiness in this moment. She thought it might do him some good.

 _10:18 p.m. (Molokini Crater)_

The water sparkled like a Christmas bauble dipped in silver glitter, stretching all the way to the horizon, uninterrupted except for the dark monoliths of Mau'i and Hawai'i to her left, and Kaho'olawe to her right. It didn't feel like she was at work, on a covert mission to stop a global trafficking ring. It felt more like she was dreaming, imagining the exact opposite of the cold winds and bleak skies of London to conjure this dreamlike place with its warm temperature, gently rolling waves, and endless clear sky. It was no wonder that Polynesians were so gifted with navigation, and that Polynesian wizards were masters of Astronomy. This far from the light pollution of the continents, Hermione could see more stars than she'd thought existed. They felt closer to Earth, somehow, without a cityscape or mountains blocking them from view.

She hung over the side of the boat and gazed down into the clear waters the sleeping coral structures below. Somewhere down there, Christy Caldwell was meeting with the leaders of the Polynesian clan, called the Mo'o. The name roughly translated to "water spirits," and had been used to describe Merpeople in this region of the world for thousands of years. The rest of the mission would be much more effective with the assistance and blessings of the Mo'o. It was possible to proceed without them, but for Draco's sake, she hoped the Merpeople would choose to cooperate and assist with the investigation.

She glanced back at Draco, who was sitting on the other side of the small skiff with his elbows on his knees, staring down at his clasped hands instead of at the beautiful surroundings. With a smirk, she dipped her hand into the water and flicked some at him, startling him out of his reverie.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he growled, wiping the water off his face and throwing his sodden hair back from his eyes.

"I had to get your attention somehow."

"A 'pardon me' would have sufficed, you know."

"Yes, well, I there's a time to be boring and a time to have fun."

He shook his head and leaned over the edge of the boat, looking down into the waters below. "Now's not the time for fun, Granger. Caldwell could come back any second. I don't want them to find us flinging seawater at each other like children."

Hermione refused to let his sour mood get to her. "Alright, we'll save the water fight for later, then." He scoffed at her, but she ignored him. "Scorpius did accidental magic today."

He peeled his eyes away from the water and looked back at her. "He did? Where, at the beach? Did any Muggles see?"

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the edge of the boat. "Of course not, I'm not an idiot."

"No… no, you're far from that." He leaned forward on his seat, his surliness dropping away. "I can't believe I missed it… there's not many firsts left once they get to be his age. What happened?"

She hadn't realized it was Scorpius' first display of magic. "I'll show you the memory when we get back to the hotel. It was lovely, really. Much more graceful than my first accidental magic. He made something beautiful happen today, whereas I turned the hair on my cousin's troll doll from a pale lavender into a color like sick because she'd been picking on my haircut."

"Who on Earth would make a doll of a troll?" Draco asked, momentarily distracted. "Especially one with hair? That sounds hideous."

She sighed, glad to have pulled him out of his moodiness. "Muggle thing. I'll show you a memory of that, too. It's not what you're thinking, they're actually very cute."

"Trolls are _not_ cute."

She started to describe the popular Muggle toy but was interrupted by the sound of multiple somethings breaking the surface of the water next to the boat. Both she and Draco looked to their right towards the sound.

A large group of Merpeople had surfaced. Unlike those living in the lochs of Scotland, Merpeople who called the ocean home spent a considerable amount of time above water, sunning themselves on beaches and rocks, and even occasionally lighting driftwood bonfires to cook seabirds. Objectively, Hermione knew this – but she hadn't expected them to look so different from those she'd met in the Scottish loch near Hogwarts. These men and women looked less wild and at once more human and ethereal. They were tanned and toned, and every face she saw was beautiful…unnaturally so. Even in the dark, she could see that their hair and scales were brilliant pastel and jewel tones that would glitter in the light of day. It was no wonder that MACUSA and the American Muggle government had agreed to create a protected area for them following the disastrous events of World War II.

Christy Caldwell broke the surface just in front of the Merpeople and swam toward the steps at the side of the boat with a huge grin on her face.

Draco reached out a hand and helped her climb into the boat. "I'm assuming this means it went well?" he asked quietly, his voice tense. "Did they agree to help?"

One of the men approached them. He had long dreadlocks, pale as Draco's own hair, which were tied back with a length of what looked like seaweed. His scales were a pale silver, barely discernible below the water due to the glittering moonlight. With a powerful flick of his tail, he rose out of the water to casually rest his arms on the side of the boat. "It's about time someone came to get those poachers off our lands," he stated. Hermione was surprised enough that he was speaking plain English, let alone that his accent was distinctly Kiwi. "We can keep them off the beaches well enough, but anywhere past the tide line and we're a bit out of our depth, if you get my drift." He caught Hermione looking at him in awe and winked at her playfully.

Draco looked shocked and was completely speechless as he glanced back at Hermione. Christy laughed and squeezed the water out of her hair over the side of the boat. "This is Zidane Wilson – he's the clan's liaison with ICW. Zidane, this is the mission leader I spoke of, Draco Malfoy, and this is his second-in-command, Hermione Granger."

"Pleasure to meet you both." He reached out a hand to Draco, who shook it despite still looking bewildered. His handshake was firm. Hermione briefly wondered where he'd learned this particular human custom. Was it something he'd learned as part of his work as a liaison with ICW? And since when did Merpeople have surnames?

Zidane nodded toward the group of men and women behind him. "We'll meet with your team tomorrow to coordinate efforts. In the meantime, I've brought a few volunteers who are able to take watch tonight. The poachers are hardly ever active during the full moon, so it should be clear, but just in case..." The merman gestured across the waters at the island. "Anywhere you'd like them to watch, in particular? Or just a perimeter of the island?"

Draco bit his lip and glanced up at the dark expanse of Kaho'olawe. "We've got some satellite pictures from the Muggle government that shows they tend to stick to the southeastern point of the island, near Kamōhio Bay. Perhaps a loose perimeter and a few individuals in the bay to spot any craft coming through?"

About half of the group of Merpeople immediately sank below the water and darted away, cutting through the water in brilliant flashes of color. Zidane nodded to Hermione and pushed himself off the boat, returning to the remaining Merpeople and explaining the plan to them in Mermish. Before long, the rest of the Merpeople had vanished as quietly as they'd come.

Zidane approached them once again, this time staying low in the water. "I've given Christy the coordinates for a Portkey. We can meet around 5 o'clock tomorrow afternoon. It'll give your team a chance to adjust to the time difference, and all the whale-watching boats will be off the water by then. Less chance of the Muggles spotting anyone on the beaches from far away."

"Does that happen often?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

Zidane shrugged. "Often enough. The Obliviators and Legilimens at the ports do a good job catching anyone who gets a glimpse of us. Still, better safe than seen, right? Especially with you lot here. I imagine MACUSA didn't inform the Governor that you were coming. We'd do best not to tip them off." Without waiting for an answer, he raised an arm to bid them farewell before sinking under the waves and darting away.

Draco stared after him before turning back to Christy. "How in the bloody hell did he know that?"

She sat next to Hermione and reached for the towel she'd left in her bag. "We got lucky with him. He knows quite a bit more than we do, I'm afraid, at least about the situation out here."

Draco moved to the back of the boat and tapped his wand twice on the stern. They began to move slowly through the water, the boat automatically turning to avoid the shallowest coral formations. Hermione turned to Christy. "What happened down there?"

Christy gazed up at the stars as they reached the edge of the crater and began to speed up. "I spoke to the Chieftain for a short time. He was pleased that we came for permission before setting up a perimeter on the island. Seems happy to help, too – the traffickers have been causing problems for the Mo'o who live here for at least two years. Some of the protected inlets the Mo'o use as nurseries for the young ones have been netted off. It looks like the traffickers are using them as holding pens for any aquatic creatures they bring through. I honestly don't want to think about a kelpie getting loose over here, can you imagine all the fuss that would cause with the Muggle tourists?" Christy grimaced. "The hunters have been using blow darts and the like on the smugglers to keep them off the beaches, but that's the best they've been able to do. They stopped trying to get the inlets back when the smugglers started destroying coral shelves."

Draco was pacing the length of the boat. "And I'm assuming the Chieftain sent emissaries to the authorities for help, and received none?"

Christy nodded. "The Hawai'ian Governor at the local MACUSA headquarters did nothing. At first they assumed it was just MACUSA being MACUSA – you know how they are about magical creatures – but then they realized that every time the smugglers are on the island, one of them makes a trip over to Lahaina."

Hermione shook her head. "Does that trip usually involve delivering sacks of Galleons?"

Christy nodded. "Right in one."

 _Saturday, March 8, 2008 – 6:00 p.m. (Honokaiai'a Bay, Kaho'olawe)_

Hermione couldn't help gaping at her surroundings. The Mo'o littered the lower portion of the beach. More were draped along the rocks at either side of the bay, and still more were lounging in the shallows. They looked like part-human versions of tropical fish, ostentatious and absolutely unforgettable. In the brilliant late-afternoon sun, their scales sparkled.

She hadn't expected this when Zidane had asked the team to meet at the coordinates he'd given to Christy. She'd expected a short meeting to introduce the Auror team to the Merpeople who would be assisting on the case. It had certainly started that way, but then Zidane had mentioned that the Chieftain wanted to give the Auror team a proper welcome. This apparently included a celebratory dinner, complete with kālua pork roasting in traditional Polynesian imus just past the tide line, tended by Merpeople who slithered up and down the damp sand like snakes. There was also a shellfish and sashimi banquet that some tribe members were preparing near the waterline, and plenty of coconuts filled with rum. Hermione was sitting at the waterline with Harry and Zidane, shaking hands with or accepting shell necklaces from multiple curious tribe member who had shown up to get a glimpse of the human visitors.

Harry leaned over to her during a lull in the line of visitors. "What the hell kind of mission is this?" he whispered.

Hermione took a sip from her coconut and shrugged. "I've been thinking the same thing."

He pulled away and took a sip from his own coconut. "Oh well – it's probably just the eye of the storm, anyway."

Zidane, who had been observing the proceedings quietly while braiding lengths of seaweed to dry and use as rope, glanced up at Harry. "It'll be a storm, alright, if it's anything like it was when they came through in December. We very nearly had a late season hurricane when they were here – we're lucky some of the north side reefs weren't destroyed."

Harry nodded, leaning back on his hands to enjoy the sunlight. "We caught up with them in Ireland in January. They were trafficking multiple Thunderbirds."

Zidane whistled appreciatively. "No wonder, then. I've not seen one of them since I visited the Outback with my family as a kid, and that one caused a flash flood." He shook his head, and Hermione admired the tiny colorful beads that were woven into his blonde dreadlocks. "All of that red dirt flowing in a sudden rainfall like that… it was like a river of blood coming at us. I'll never forget it. Mum was screaming so much you'd have thought she was a banshee."

Harry paused, looking confused. "The Outback? But you're-"

Zidane abandoned his seaweed, leaning back on his elbows and raising his flukes out of the water. "These are a relatively new development, mate. Believe me, I'd much rather be running alongside all of you when you catch these bastards."

Hermione had a burst of understanding. No wonder he'd seemed so comfortable shaking Draco's hand, so familiar with human customs. "They changed you. Just like the stories."

He nodded. "Not just like them, but – same idea. I didn't have much of a choice, really. I'd have died otherwise."

Harry looked dumbfounded. "I am not following."

"Oceanic Merpeople are much different than the loch clans in Europe, Harry – they're more human in appearance, and in their mannerisms and customs, too," Hermione explained.

Harry cut her off and leaned conspiratorially over to the Merman. "This one knows pretty much everything. It's bloody annoying, really."

Zidane laughed, a contagious, a clear tenor. "We're more human with good reason. Many of us were human once." He gestured around. "A lot of the people you see here are children of men the tribe saved after the attacks on Pearl Harbor. Some of us nearly died in shipwrecks – her, for example." He pointed at a small, dark-haired young woman who was watching some children out in the waves. "She was trying to sail around the world on her own and got caught in a storm. She almost didn't make it through. Most are like me – young, stupid, and lucky someone was around when death came calling."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, her voice hushed.

"Surfing accident. I was out here to research humpback and cetea whale migrations - trying to determine how often they interact, population numbers for each species, if they are mating, if magical qualities pass on to the next generation if there's inter-species procreation, that kind of thing." He reached for a piece of seaweed and started picking at it, tearing it to shreds. She'd seen Ron do the same with bits of paper back in school to keep his hands busy when talking about uncomfortable subjects. "One of the locals who worked with us knew about the Mo'o, so sometimes they'd join us to catch a wave or two. There's a big wave spot called Jaws on the north side of Mau'i, so one evening when it was popping and we knew none of the Muggles would be out, we went for it.

"I was lucky the Mo'o were there. I went down hard, hit some coral and broke my back. My right leg had a wound down to the bone, right through an artery, I think. Couldn't feel my legs at all, but the upper half was still working well enough. If it weren't for the bleeding, I could have made it to the beach and waited for someone to Portkey healers in from Oahu. Anyway, I didn't have time." He pointed out into the bay. "See her, with the pearly white hair? That's Enea. She gave me the choice, live or die. I knew I'd never see land again, but I figured I spent most of my time in the water anyway, with my research. So – that was that."

Hermione reached over and grasped Zidane's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to make that choice. But I'm glad you're still here."

He nodded. "Thanks for that. I appreciate it. It's really not terrible, but there's things I miss." He sighed heavily. "Iced coffee, for one. I'd give my right leg for some iced coffee." He winked at Hermione, and she giggled. Perhaps she should slow down on the rum. "I'm still doing research on the whales, and they've got me lined up for a survey on Hawai'ian monk seals next. I get to serve as a representative for the ICW, so that's been a really interesting opportunity I'd never have otherwise. My friends try and bring me treats from the island every now and again, mail letters to my parents for me. I've not gone back to New Zealand yet, but my parents moved to a house on the beach, so I'll be able to stay near there when I go back to visit. In the meantime, my family came out here last year - they rented a houseboat for two weeks so that we could spend time together. It's all worked out fine. I'm just grateful to be alive, really."

They sat in silence for a moment, watching as the sun continued its slow migration toward the horizon.

"So how does that work? The changing?" Harry set down his coconut and folded his hands over his knees.

Zidane flipped his fins to splash a nearby sand crab, and they watched it scurry away. "There's a method… it's old magic. Being who you are, you're already familiar with the concept, and you're not going to like it." He looked apprehensive now.

"Is it a secret?" Hermione asked.

"Sort of."

"Is it illegal?" Harry asked, grinning mischievously.

Zidane cocked an eyebrow. "Sometimes."

Hermione jumped in, trying to rescue Zidane from Harry's curiosity. "Well, then you don't have to tell us."

Zidane waved her off. "Just promise you won't arrest anyone here, Harry Potter."

"The only people I'll arrest here are the smugglers, if given the opportunity," Harry stated. "Otherwise, my interests lie in good conversation and coconut rum."

Zidane laughed, and his apprehension faded slightly. "You aren't going to like it," he warned again. "The person doing the saving gives the other party a piece of themselves. A bit of soul, if you will, for safekeeping." Hermione and Harry glanced up sharply, and Zidane groaned. "Told you."

"It sounds like very familiar dark magic," Hermione whispered, glancing worriedly at Harry.

Zidane shrugged. "There's no doubt that it can be used for dark reasons." He gave Hermione a boyish grin. "How do you feel about a little history lesson?"

"Oi Hermione, he speaks your love language," Harry quipped.

She kicked sand at him, then nodded to the Merman.

"It's got a dark application, but it didn't start out that way. Dark wizards first learned it from the Greek sirens during the time of Odysseus. It's called "ōru'xí" among the Merfolk. Means "gift of life". The Greek sirens used it to transform sailors they wanted for their own, which is the darkest it ever got among the Merfolk. Then they taught it to humans, and the humans experimented with planting the given piece of soul into solid objects, usually metal or something that doesn't easily degrade, instead of a living being." Hermione blanched, and Harry reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. He was much calmer than she'd have anticipated in the face of this news.

Zidane's sounded disgusted now. "The way it was used against you was a crime against man, against nature. Among the Merfolk, using this magic for one's own benefit is punishable by death. It can only be used with pure intent, to save someone. And that's how they saved me."

There was a long silence. Hermione wished she'd known more about this magic all those years ago, wished she'd understood how this magic which had changed all their lives came to be.

"So, you'll die?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed and concerned. He motioned out at the girl who had saved Zidane. "Whenever she dies, as the container for her soul, you will perish, too?"

He shook his head. "No. It's the intent that makes the difference. The gift of life transforms and heals the body and tethers the recipient to life in their time of need. It is not about protecting the giver, but about the recipient. The piece of soul given melds with their own soul over time. I am my own being, and the woman who saved me is her own. We are connected, certainly. But now that I've healed, my life no longer depends on her's. It's a different magic than the bastardized version that nearly destroyed Britain, that nearly killed you. It's the light to the dark you knew."

Harry glanced back at the beach where Aurors were beginning to line up for food. Hermione wasn't sure what he was looking for, but when he turned back to Zidane, his face looked grave.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Draco Malfoy any of this." Zidane looked confused, worried, and he turned to follow Harry's gaze up the beach. Draco was standing near one of the ground ovens, laughing as one of the Mermen showed him how to remove the coals and banana leaves from the pit.

"If anyone was going to be upset over this, I'd have thought it would be you," Zidane muttered, looking surprised.

"I'm far from upset. It's good to know that the magic was meant for good. Draco, though… He recently lost his wife to a blood curse," Harry explained. "If he finds out there was something we didn't try that could have saved her, something we just didn't know about, he'll be devastated. He's a right foul git most of the time, but… he's had enough pain."

She distantly heard Zidane promising to be discreet. Despite the heat, Hermione's blood suddenly felt like ice.

 _Thursday, March 13, 2008 – 2:08 p.m. (Lahaina, Mau'i_ )

Draco looked like an absolute ponce in a Hawai'ian shirt and shorts, Hermione thought. It wasn't just that he carried himself so haughtily and thus looked distinctly uncomfortable in such relaxed attire. No, it was also his skin – already considered pale back home in London, where it was normal to have a fair complexion. Here, he stood out. Unlike Draco, she looked right at home. She'd inherited her mother's Mediterranean skin, and after only a few days in the constant sun, she'd already tanned to a healthy shade of bronze. With a wide-brimmed hat, a flowing, sarong-style sundress, and her trusty old beaded bag, she looked every bit the Muggle tourist.

"Draco, you really should have sent Harry along with me, instead," she muttered as she snapped another picture of the Banyan tree at the center of Lahaina's tourist area. She needed to maintain their cover as a pair of honeymooning Muggle tourists. The man they were tailing sat across the square on a park bench identical to the one they'd occupied for the last forty minutes. He was a middle-aged man with a round belly that hung over the waist of his pants. His hair had receded, but what was left was a light brown color. He'd hidden his face behind a Hawai'ian islands tourism guidebook, but every five minutes or so, he'd drop the book and look impatiently at the marina across the street.

"If I ignore you long enough, will you stop nagging at me?" he asked irritably. Hermione watched him fiddle with the flip-portion of the Muggle mobile phone she'd purchased for him at a local shop earlier in the week. That was the thing about staking out Wizarding criminals… if you visibly used Muggle technology in any fashion, more often than not, they simply ignored you. With her professional-style camera, which would be great for catching still-image proof of the government official's illicit activities, and Draco's cell phone and the prop video camera she'd given him swinging around his neck, they would be completely forgettable – if not for Draco's pale skin and awkward body language.

"He'd have looked more natural out here, that's all," she continued. A warm wind blew through the area, and she leaned her head back to enjoy gentle sunlight on her face.

Draco suddenly leaned in close, his arm draped over her shoulders and his lips close to her ear – the image of a man whispering sweet nothings into his new wife's ear. "Potter is recognizable anywhere. I just look like a European asking for a sunburn." He smirked at her. "Anyway, you think I'm going to give up my rare opportunity to do undercover work? No chance."

She giggled and trailed her fingers over his cheeks. They'd played newlyweds on stakeouts before, and the territory was familiar enough. Still, this closeness felt strange now, with Astoria's request in the back of her mind. She tried to ignore it. "Please tell me you wore sunblock," she teased him. "I don't want to have to look at you for the rest of the week, pink as a pig's rump, and say I told you so."

He playfully squeezed the top of her leg, looking equal parts amused and irritated. "Yes, Granger, I wore the cursed sunblock. Anything to avoid your nagging." He scoffed. "Not like it worked." His phone rang, and in a move that looked shockingly natural, he pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open. Hermione suspected he'd been practicing. "Malfoy, here."

He was still sitting closer to her than he normally would, and she could see a faint shadow beneath his eyes. He'd been working around the clock since they'd arrived, and the lack of sleep was beginning to show.

"It's about bloody time. Nice catch, Finnegan." He tensed against her, eyes flashing. She watched as his eyes flicked to the man who was still sitting on the opposite side of the square, then toward the marina across the street. "How long until they dock?" A pause. "I'd estimate 60 meters or so." He listened again, then pulled back, casually looking around. "Too many Muggles about, and not enough dark corners, I'm afraid. Granger and I will manage. There's someone in the marina?" He nodded to himself, decisively. "Talk soon."

He put the phone back into his pocket, then immediately stood up and grinned playfully at her, tugging on her hand to pull her to her feet. "Come along, Granger. It's nearly showtime." He draped his arm over her shoulder and led her leisurely around the banyan tree toward the boat dock.

"What's the plan?" she whispered, resisting the urge to look back at the man they'd been tailing all morning.

"We'll get visuals of the handoff from that jewelry shop on the corner. I'll follow the smuggler and see if he does any additional business while he's on land. You tail our man as long as possible. Bad luck if he Disapparates… hopefully he'll stick around and give us some new leads."

She nodded, then pulled out of his close hold, threading her arm through his as they crossed the street. "I take it they've finally arrived on the island, then?"

"Yes. One of the Merpeople alerted Seamus about the boat leaving the island, and shortly thereafter the rest of the group Ported in." He paused in front of the door to the jewelry shop, gripping her elbow. "Listen. Don't be a hero while you tail him. If anything gets questionable, just leave it."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "What makes you think anything will get questionable?"

"Nothing, really, I'd just rather you be cautious. Scorpius would be miserable if you had to go back to hospital because you were being reckless."

She smirked. "Oh, Scorpius, hm? I see." He rolled his eyes at her and ignored her mockery, pulling open the door without waiting for her to promise she'd play it safe. They stepped into the jewelry shop, which appeared to specialize in pieces made from local pearls. Hermione glanced toward the front window, which had an excellent view of the entry to the marina and the banyan tree, and took up a position behind a case full of ankle bracelets.

She tried not to listen as Draco conversed with the shopkeeper at the counter, but she still heard him ask if she might have a full strand of pink pearls in the storeroom before he Confunded her. She always hated this part – it reminded her too much of that last moment with her parents. The last moment they'd still been her parents. They'd never talked about it, but from the minute he'd found out what happened to her parents, he'd automatically performed any confusion or memory charms that were necessary in the field.

He returned to her side a moment later, waving his wand at the door to cast a weak Muggle-repelling charm. Now that they were certain they wouldn't be interrupted by any Muggle patrons entering the shop, she allowed herself to admire a delicate ankle bracelet made of amber colored pearls and tiny rose-gold beads shaped like sea turtles. It reminded her of watching the sunset with Scorpius and snorkeling with the children.

With a soft smile, she pulled her gaze away and back to the magical government official they'd been following throughout the day. He still waited on the same bench across the street in the banyan pavilion, bouncing his knee impatiently. Hermione absentmindedly flicked her wand at her beaded bag, summoning a tank top, a pair of yoga pants, and running shoes. She gathered her mass of curls into a messy jogger's bun, then stuffed her camera and wide-brimmed hat into the bag. She briefly felt around in the bag before pulling out a second set of clothes and handing them to Draco.

"Put your things in here," she told Draco, holding the beaded bag out to him. He held it up and looked at it with amusement. "And turn around." She discarded her sandals as she waited for him to comply, then pulled the yoga pants on under her dress. Ducking down behind the jewelry counters, she quickly shoved her feet into the running shoes and pulled the tank top over her head, Finally, she untied the halter tie of her sundress to allow the fabric to drop to the floor, and stood back up.

When she turned back around, he'd already exchanged his Hawai'ian shirt for a light blue polo. It looked much better against his khaki shorts and light complexion. He tossed her bag back at her. "You know, it's amazing just how much worse this humidity makes your hair. I didn't think that was possible." Draco pointed at her bun. "It's trying to escape already."

"Yes, yes, I look like Medusa, wonderful. Keep your eyes on the prize, Malfoy." It was nice to hear him laugh, she thought, placing the bag on the counter in front of her. She tucked her sandals and dress inside, then checked that her wand was still in its holster just inside her bag. She didn't like that the wand wasn't easily accessible on her body, but it was much harder to hide in a tropical locale than it was back home in London.

Shortly thereafter, Draco leaned forward. A dark-haired man dressed in a plain white tank top, black Muggle board shorts, and carrying a Muggle backpack had entered the area and sat on the other end of the park bench. He looked so much like a typical Muggle tourist that if it weren't for the coincidental timing, Hermione wouldn't have suspected him. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lifted one to his lips. A moment later, he pulled it away from his lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke. She hadn't seen him use a lighter. "There's our guy," Draco murmured. "Stan's Self-Lighting Cigarettes and all." She'd tried Stan Shunpike's product on occasion, but something about them didn't taste quite right, and they didn't provide the same depth of satisfaction as the Muggle version.

The two men didn't talk. They didn't even look at one another. Rather, the smuggler sat for the length of one cigarette, then stood and walked away without his backpack. The government official didn't try to stop him.

Draco nudged her shoulder with his own, hands in his pockets. "Remember - no heroics, Granger." With a smirk, he flicked his wand to remove the Muggle-repelling charm, then sauntered out of the jewelry shop. He followed at a discreet distance as the smuggler crossed the street and returned to the marina, and they were out of sight within moments.

Hermione slung her bag across her body and watched casually as the middle-aged man gathered his suit coat and the backpack. He opened the backpack briefly, then placed his coat and the island guidebook he'd been reading inside. She noted that the bag didn't look any fuller as he slung it over his shoulder, despite the voluminous suit coat he'd stuffed inside, and wondered just how deep the Undetectable Extension Charm was. How much money were the smugglers paying the local magical government to look the other way?

 _Thursday, March 13, 2008 – 6:12 p.m. (Molokini Crater_ )

One day, Hermione thought, nothing about the Wizarding world would shock her. That day hadn't come yet.

She was sitting on the rear deck of the houseboat they'd rented, which was acting as a temporary HQ. With the Merpeople assisting on the investigation, they'd recognized the need to move HQ from a boardroom to a water-friendly locale. It helped that the boat could double as a 'round the clock station from which the Aurors could monitor activity on Kaho'olawe. Still – it wasn't every day that you got to see your international colleagues reviewing maps and making motive boards while walking around in swim trunks.

She glanced over at Zidane, who was staying out of sight below the rails and resting on a beach towel on the deck. He sipped reverently on the massive iced coffee Hermione had brought him from a Starbucks in downtown Lahaina, and occasionally curled his flukes in, looking pleased as punch. She supposed it wasn't every day that you got to hang out with a Merman in the middle of the most popular snorkeling spot in the Hawai'ian islands, either.

"Are you nearly done having an affair with that coffee?" she asked, her tone warm with teasing.

He shook his head no. "I'm savoring it. Who knows when I'll get another one?"

She laughed. "Tomorrow morning, if you'd like." The sound of people Apparating nearby pulled her attention away, and she heard a commotion inside the living room area of the boat. With a glance back at Zidane, who looked completely unperturbed, she pulled herself out of the lounge chair she'd claimed and made her way inside.

Draco and Seamus had arrived, accompanied by none other than Rolfe Scamander. Members of the Auror team from the UK were busy clapping him on the back and offering drams of whiskey. Draco gave her a quick once-over, making sure she was in one piece after her solo surveillance job, then nodded and moved to chat with the team leads from Canada, Japan, and the federal branch of MACUSA. Seamus caught her eye and held it, winking as he approached her. She flushed.

"How was surveillance?" He leaned in closer than was strictly professional and glanced around, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while no one was looking.

"Eventful. I'm sure we'll all be talking about it soon enough."

He leaned against the door jamb, looking out at Zidane with a confused furrow in his brow. "It's not every day you see that, is it? This mission is bizarre."

"I thought it was just me, thinking that."

He shook his head. "No. Muggleborn or magic born, the last few days have been odd at best." Seamus cocked an eyebrow at her, letting his eyes trail up and down her body. "What are your plans tonight?" he asked eagerly. "I've hardly seen you since we got here."

Their conversation was interrupted as Draco called for the team leads to gather outside for a debrief on the day's activities. She walked back to her lounge chair near Zidane, and she patted the end of the chair to invite Seamus to sit with her. He smiled but shook his head, instead pulling up a normal desk chair to sit alongside her.

The other team leads gathered around in a circle near Zidane, who set the last of his coffee aside with a wistful glance. Draco pulled up a chair on Hermione's other side for Rolfe. Rolfe took it and reached over to shake Hermione's hand. "It's been awhile, Hermione. I heard about your shoulder. Glad to see you're feeling better. And Seamus… congrats on team lead. Well-deserved, mate."

Seamus reached out to shake Rolfe's hand in greeting, as well. "How are you holding up out there?"

Rolfe's expression grew dark. "I'm glad we're nearly done. The things they've done to those animals, and the things they've done to people to acquire them… they deserve the cages that are waiting for them."

Draco stood in the center of the circle and waved his wand at the deck. A map of Kaho'olawe appeared in the center of their circle. "Evening everyone. Up until now, I know this has felt more like a vacation than a case." Everyone around the circle nodded in agreement. "A lot has happened today, so without further ado – for those of you who haven't had the pleasure, this is Rolfe Scamander. He's been undercover on this case for just over eight months. We owe all of the progress we've made thus far to him."

Hermione clapped along with the others, and Rolfe ducked his head shyly in the face of all the attention.

"Rolfe arrived with a small contingent of smugglers today. Finnegan's team did some great surveillance work today. Their positions have been marked, and with Rolfe's help, we should be able to map out where the rest of the group and the animals will be positioned upon their arrival to the island." Draco paused next to Zidane next. "Wilson's team noted that two of the smugglers visited the bay that they commandeered from the Merfolk and reinforced the nets that were placed on previous visits. Rolfe – any commentary on what we can expect to be held in the bay?"

Rolfe bounced his knee nervously. "Two young sea dragons from the coast of Japan, and they're going to try and capture two or three cetea calves while they're here for a magical menagerie in China. They insist they've got the space and can control them, but…"

Zidane leaned forward. His good mood was gone, and he looked furious. "That's a fool's errand if I've ever heard one. Don't they know that you don't fuck with those whales? There's a reason all the old sailors and whalers used to tell stories about unexpected hurricanes, and about creatures ripping their ships apart." He tapped his flukes against the deck in agitation. "If they seriously think they can try to capture infants from nursing mothers, they've got a big, destructive surprise waiting for them."

"Zidane's a magizoologist specializing in cetacean studies," Hermione whispered to Rolfe. "I'll explain more later."

Draco frowned. "Yeah, that's a big problem. Rolfe and Wilson, we'll coordinate after the meeting. Wilson, I think it's safe to say that your people will need to take point on that one."

"Right'o. We'll handle it."

Draco continued to walk around the circle. "Well – at least that answers some of what we learned today. Finnegan's surveillance team was able to warn Hermione and myself that the smugglers had arrived, and that a boat was on its way to Lahaina. We were able to observe a handoff from the smuggler to a government official that we've been tailing for the past few days. After the handoff, I followed the smuggler. He made two additional stops on Mau'i at private docks, one on the outskirts of Lahaina, and the other near Black Rocks. I was able to follow him to Lanai, but he Disapparated after he'd docked the boat." He gestured toward Hermione. "What'd you find, Granger?"

"The government official made three stops in Lahaina. First, he met a woman at a park near a historical landmark. He was there for about half an hour. I got close enough to hear some of the conversation. He's an assistant to the Secretary of the Hawai'ian Magical Treasury." A chorus of whistles and murmurs erupted around the circle. She glanced over at the representative from MACUSA, who looked both livid and unsurprised. She returned her gaze to Draco, who was smirking proudly at her. "He made another stop at the Pacific Whale Foundation nearby and spoke with another woman there. I got visual confirmation of him giving sacks of Galleons to both women, but I wasn't able to figure out where the woman from the park was from. After that, I followed him to the old prison museum… it's got a guard-station and a wall, so I didn't follow him inside. He never emerged, so I'm assuming he Disapparated."

The representative from MACUSA nodded. "The Hawai'ian magical government has office space in that museum. We should place someone there to monitor comings and goings, and continue to monitor what we can at the Capitol building in Oahu."

Hermione nodded. "I agree. That would be best."

Draco finally conjured a deck chair and sat, joining the circle. "Looks like playtime is over, everyone. Let's figure out our next moves."

* * *

 _Sorry for the long hiatus, all. Thank you so much for your reviews! It's really nice to know there are people reading. (Please note - all of my work for the Harry Potter fandom is cross-posted at my other account on AO3, penname tofadeawayagain.)_

 _Hope you enjoyed the latest installment. This one was already at 17 pages long with lots more of the Hawai'i case to finish, so I decided to split it. My goal is to have the next chapter up within the next week as it's already partially complete. Look forward to some quality time with Seamus and Ginny/the kids, high stakes on the case, and some uncomfortable conversations with Draco!_


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